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MEMOIRS  AND   LETTERS 


OF 


CARDINAL    DE    BERNIS 

VOLUME  I. 


<£our  to  JFtante  Istrttton 

LIMITED  TO  TWELVE  HUNDRED  AND 
FIFTY  NUMBERED  SETS,  OF  WHICH  THIS  is 

NO 969 


A. F.  Collet. 


MEMOIRS    AND    LETTERS 


OF 


CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS 

WITH    AN   INTRODUCTION 

BY 

C.-A.    SAINTE-BEUVE 

CTranslatcU  bg 
KATHARINE    PRESCOTT   WORMELEY. 


ILLUSTRATED  WITH  PORTRAITS  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL. 

IN    TWO    VOLUMES, 
VOL.    I. 


BOSTON: 

HARDY,  PRATT    &    COMPANY. 
1902. 


/3S 


1702. 
v/,/ 


Copyright,  1901, 
BY  HARDY,  PRATT  &  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved. 


Hntfcersttg  -Press: 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 
INTRODUCTION  BY  C.-A.  SAINTE-BEUVE  ON  THE  ABBE"  AND 

CARDINAL   DE   BERNIS,  MADAME  DE    POMPADOUR,  AND 

THE  STATE  OF  FRANCE  UNDER  LOUIS  XV 1 

TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE 79 

MEMOIRS  :  LETTER  OF  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS  TO  HIS  NIECE, 
THE  MARQUISE  DE  PUY-MONTBRUN 81 

Part  JFirst 

CHAPTER  I.  — 1715-1735. 

My  Birth.  —  Childhood.  —  Education.  —  My  coining  to  Paris.  —  En- 
trance at  the  Seminary.  —  My  Journey  to  Languedoc.  —  Return  to 
Paris  in  1735 85 

CHAPTER  H.  — 1735-1744. 

Manners  and  Morals  of  the  Age.  —  Cardinal  de  Fleury.  —  Cardinal  de 
Polignac.  —  My  Journey  to  Auvergne  and  Languedoc  in  1739. — 
Return  to  Paris  in  1741.  —  The  Bishop  of  Mirepoix. —  My  Entrance 
to  the  French  Academy  in  1744.  —  Men  of  Letters.  —  Women.  — 
The  Great  Seigneurs 112 

CHAPTER  HI.  — 1745-1751. 

The  year  1745.  —  The  Campaign  of  Fontenoy. — A  few  important 
Events.  —  The  year  1748.  —  The  state  of  Affairs  from  the  Peace  of 
Aix-la-Chapelle  to  1751.  — The  Ministers  in  office  till  1751.  — My 
situation  in  1751.  —  A  Conversation  with  Monsieur  de  Puysieux  .  150 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV.  —  1752-1755. 

PAGE 

That  which  preceded  my  Departure  for  Venice.  —  My  De'but  there.  — 

The  foreign  Ministers  resident  in  Venice.  —  Affairs  which  I  nego- 
tiated during  my  Embassy.  —  Some  interesting  Particulars.  —  Jour- 
ney to  Parma  early  in  1755.  —  Return  to  Paris  in  June,  1755.  — 
State  of  the  Court  and  Country  in  1755  ..........  172 

CHAPTER  V.  —  1755. 

The  Situation  of  Madame  de  Pompadour  in  1755.  —  Capture  of  the 
Vessels,  "Alcide"  and  "Lys."  —  My  Appointment  to  the  Spanish 
Embassy.  —  Secret  Proposals  of  the  Court  of  Vienna,  September, 
1755.  —  My  first  Conference  with  the  Austrian  Ambassador.  —  Ac- 
count rendered  by  me  to  the  King  of  the  Memorial  of  Vienna.  — 
Continuation  of  the  Negotiations.  —  First  Secret  Committee  on  the 
Vienna  affair.  —  Affairs  of  Vienna,  Berlin,  and  Dresden.  —  My 
own  position  ...  ................  195 

CHAPTER  VI.  —  1755-1756. 

The  Affair  of  the  Requisition,  and  that  of  Minorca.  —  Continuation  of 
Negotiations  with  Vienna.  —  The  Treaty  of  Versailles.  —  Publica- 
tion of  the  Treaty  in  July,  1756.  —  Further  Negotiations  with  the 
Court  of  Vienna.  —  The  King  of  Prussia  assembles  his  Forces,  and 
threatens  an  Invasion  of  Saxony  and  Bohemia  .......  220 

CHAPTER  VII.  —  1732-1758. 
Affairs  of  Parliament  and  what  related  thereto  during  my  Ministry      .    246 

CHAPTER  VHI.  —  1757. 

That  which  happened  a  few  Days  after  my  Entrance  into  the  Council 
of  State.  —  The  Crime  of  Damiens.  —  The  Dismissal  of  Messieurs 
d'Argenson  and  de  Machault.  —  The  Conclusion  of  definite  Arrange- 
ments with  the  Court  of  Vienna  ......  .  ,  .271 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTER  IX.— 1757. 

PAGE 

The  Comte  de  Stainville  and  the  Embassy  to  Vienna.  —  My  Appoint- 
ment to  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs.  —  Intrigues  to  remove 
Mare'chal  d'Estrees  from  the  Command  of  the  Army.  —  Negotia- 
tions of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  with  Marechal  de  Richelieu.  — 
That  of  the  King  of  Prussia  with  the  same.  —  That  of  the 
Margravine  of  Bayreuth  with  me 296 


APPENDIXES. 

I.   EXPEDITION  TO  MINORCA 317 

II.    TREATY  OF  VERSAILLES 321 

Til .  SPEECH  or  Louis  XV.  TO  PARLIAMENT 325 

INDEX  ,  327 


LIST  OP 
PHOTOGRAVURE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS Frontispiece 

By  Callet  (Antoine-Fran9ois).    In  possession  of  the  family. 
INTRODUCTION. 

MME.  DE  POMPADOUR 26 

By  La  Tour  (Maurice  Quentin  de) ;  Versailles. 
CHAPTER 

II.    CARDINAL  DE  POLIGNAC 126 

By  Rigaud;  Louvre. 

III.    MAURICE  DE  SAXE,  COMTE  AND  MARECHAL 155 

By  Liotard  (Jean-fitienne)  ;  Dresden. 

V.    MARIA  THERESA,  EMPRESS-QUEEN 204 

From  a  print  from  a  portrait  at  Versailles. 

VI.    JOSEPH  PARIS,  CALLED  PARIS-DU  VERNE  Y 221 

By  Van  Loo  (Carl);  Portraits  Nationaux. 

VIII.    CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS  (PROFILE) 284 

In  the  Cabinet  des  Estampes,  Paris. 


INTRODUCTION. 

BY  C.-A.  SAINTE-BEUVE. 

IN  the  last  century  when  young  Frenchmen  went  to  Eome, 
where  Cardinal  de  Bernis  resided  as  ambassador  of  France 
from  1769,  and  where  he  died  in  1794,  one  of  their  chief  de- 
sires was  to  be  presented  to  him ;  and  the  first  thing  they 
usually  found  to  say  was  to  thank  him  for  the  pleasure  his 
pretty  verses  had  afforded  them  ;  on  which  they  were  much 
surprised  that  the  prelate  did  not  answer  their  compliments  as 
they  expected,  and  that  he  kept  all  his  amiability  and  charm 
for  other  topics  of  conversation.  I  shall  not  imitate  those 
young  Frenchmen  of  1780,  and  shall  carefully  avoid  the 
mistake  into  which  they  fell.  There  are  very  distinct  periods 
to  be  observed  when  we  speak  of  Bernis  ;  he  was  not  cardinal 
until  he  was  forty-three  years  old,  and  he  did  not  really 
take  Orders  until  he  was  forty.  Up  to  that  time  he  was  an 
abb6  as  many  men  were  in  those  days,  having  the  title  and  a 
few  benefices  ;  but  he  was  not  bound  to  the  profession ;  he 
was  not  a  priest  in  any  degree ;  and  in  1755,  at  the  age  of 
forty,  we  shall  see  him  hesitate  much  before  taking  the  step 
of  which  he  felt  the  danger,  and  from  which  his  delicacy  as 
an  honest  man  had  hitherto  deterred  him.  "  I  have  bound 
myself  to  my  profession,"  he  writes  to  Paris-Duverney 
(April  19,  1755),  "  and  I  have  taken  the  step  after  so  much 
reflection  that  I  hope  I  shall  never  repent  it." 

As  for  his  gay  little  verses,  they  belong  to  his  youth ;  he 
had  ceased  to  make  them  before  he  was  thirty-five  years  old. 

VOL.    I.  —  1 


2  INTRODUCTION. 

"  I  have  totally  abandoned  poetry  for  the  last  eleven  years," 
he  writes  to  Voltaire  in  1761.  "  I  knew  that  my  little  talent 
injured  me  in  my  profession  and  at  Court ;  I  ceased  to  prac- 
tise it  without  regret,  because  I  did  not  think  much  of  it,  and 
I  have  never  liked  whatever  was  mediocre.  I  write  no  more 
verses  and  I  read  few,  unless  they  are,  like  yours,  full  of  soul, 
strength,  and  harmony ;  I  prefer  history."  It  is  necessary, 
therefore,  in  speaking  of  Bernis  to  mark  his  epochs  distinctly, 
if  we  desire  to  be  just  towards  one  of  the  most  graceful  and 
most  polished  minds  of  the  last  century,  towards  a  man  of 
real  capacity  more  extensive  than  people  think,  a  man  who 
knew  how  to  redeem  his  literary  weaknesses  and  his  political 
pliancy  by  a  decent  and  useful  middle-age  and  by  an  honour- 
able end.  Documents  recently  issuing  from  the  archives  of 
the  Vatican  cast  light  upon  the  second  half  of  his  career, 
while  he  was  ambassador  of  France  in  Eome.  To  these  I 
shall  presently  refer ;  but  first  I  desire  to  speak  of  the  more 
frivolous  Abbd  de  Bernis,  from  whom  we  shall  see  the  serious 
man  insensibly  emerging. 

He  was  born  at  Saint-Marcel  d'Ardeche  in  Vivarais,  May 
22, 1715,  of  an  ancient  race  of  high  nobility.  As  a  younger 
son  he  was  destined  for  the  Church.  He  came  to  Paris 
for  his  first  studies  at  the  Jesuit  college  (Louis-le-Grand), 
and  he  did  his  philosophy  and  his  theology  at  the  sem- 
inary of  Saint-Sulpice  and  the  Sorbonne.  "We  find  him 
successively  canon  and  Comte  de  Brioude,  canon  and  Comte 
de  Lyon,  that  is  to  say,  a  member  of  chapters  for  which  he 
was  required  to  give  proofs  of  very  ancient  nobility ;  these 
positions  were  for  him  merely  honorary.  While  awaiting 
benefices  which  did  not  come  (having  only  a  very  insignifi- 
cant one  at  Boulogne-sur-mer)  the  Abbe*-Comte  de  Bernis 
entered  society,  for  which  he  was  made,  especially  that  portion 
of  it  which  is  called  the  great  world,  but  in  it  he  lived  as 


INTRODUCTION.  3 

poor  as  the  poorest  of  new-comers.  Diderot  speaks  somewhere 
of  dinners  he  more  than  once  ate  with  him  at  six  sous 
a  head.  For  years  Bernis  supported  gaily  and  with  indiffer- 
ence this  cramped  condition,  this  contrast  between  his  tastes 
and  his  situation,  between  all  that  he  saw  and  did  not 
have.  But  his  soul  "  was  brave  and  gentle,"  and  youth, 
that  ready  and  easy  consoler,  stood  him  in  place  of  all ;  no 
man  was  ever  made  to  enjoy  more  than  he ;  all  contempo- 
raries tell  us  of  the  advantages  of  his  person  and  the  charms 
of  his  face.  "  I  always  remember  your  grace,  your  fine  coun- 
tenance, and  your  mind,"  wrote  Voltaire  many  years  later. 
Duclos,  his  friend,  one  of  those  who  have  spoken  best  of  him, 
and  whose  habitual  harshness  softens  to  depict  him,  says : 
"  From  birth  an  amiable  face,  a  candid  countenance,  much 
intelligence,  charm,  a  sound  judgment,  and  a  trusty  character 
made  all  societies  seek  him ;  he  lived  pleasantly  with  them 
all."  Marmontel  also,  less  agreeable  in  this  than  Duclos,  and 
with  less  variety  of  tone,  tells  us  that  "  the  Abbd  de  Ber- 
nis, escaping  from  the  seminary  of  Saint-Sulpice,  where  he 
succeeded  ill,  was  a  gallant  poet,  very  plump,  very  rosy,  very 
dainty,  who,  together  with  Gentil-Bernard,  amused  the  joyous 
suppers  of  Paris  with  his  pretty  verses."  That  rotund  and 
ample  figure,  that  handsome  rounded  face  and  triple  chin 
which  strike  us  in  the  portraits  of  Bernis  as  an  old  man, 
came  to  him  rather  early  in  life;  but  at  first  something 
childlike  and  delicate  mingled  with  them,  and  always,  even 
to  the  last,  his  profile  kept  its  distinction  and  elegance ;  the 
forehead  and  eyes  were  very  fine. 

He  began  by  making  verses  to  his  "  Dieux  Penates " 
(1736),  as  Gresset  did  upon  his  "  Chartreuse."  These  verses 
of  Bernis,  done  at  twenty-one  years  of  age,  have  all  Gresset's 
defects ;  they  have  also  his  facility  and  his  flow  of  language. 
Already  we  see  the  Cupids  and  Zephyrs  which  pervade 


Bernis,  and  made  d'Alembert  say  that  "if  you  cut  their 
wings  you  cut  their  vitals." 

"  Mais  qu'une  Sagesse  sterile 
N'occupe  jamais  mes  loisirs  ; 
Que  toujours  ma  muse  fertile 
Imite,  en  variant  son  style, 
Le  vol  inconstant  des  Zephyrs." 

Bernis  in  his  best  moments  has  a  certain  harmonious 
languor,  but  the  tender  note  is  soon  lost,  drowned  in  a 
dainty  but  insipid  warbling.  We  can  scarcely  find  any  of 
his  lines  to  quote  in  the  midst  of  this  abundant  and  monot- 
onous superfluity ;  for  if  he  has  an  occasional  turn  to  revery 
and  sentiment  in  his  poems,  he  is  wholly  wanting  in  ideas 
and  invention.  In  a  few  of  his  "  Epistles  "  there  are  some 
rather  pretty  passages  on  Ambition,  or  on  Laziness,  which 

picture  him. 

"  Qui  sait,  au  printemps  de  son  a"ge, 
Souffrir  les  niaux  avec  courage 
A  bien  des  droits  sur  les  plaisirs. 

Pourquoi  cbercher  si  loin  la  gloire  ? 
Le  plaisir  est  si  pres  de  nous  ! " 

The  tone  is  always  and  everywhere  the  same.  In  this  very 
"  Epistle  on  Laziness,"  the  only  one  which  La  Harpe  singled 
out,  we  see  Bernis  graceful,  natural,  but  without  force,  without 
any  loftiness  of  purpose,  without  ideal.  In  his  opening  poem, 
"  To  my  Penates,"  he  had  spoken  rather  severely  of  Voltaire, 
apostrophizing  him  as  a  brilliant  mind  then  in  its  decadence ; 
he  soon  abandoned  this  youthful  judgment ;  they  grew  at- 
tached, and  Voltaire,  while  applauding  and  caressing  him, 
gave  him  one  of  those  nicknames  he  excelled  in  finding,  — 
nicknames  which  comprise  a  whole  judgment.  Bernis  had 
made  a  string  of  descriptive  verses  called  "  The  Four  Parts  of 
a  Day,"  following  it  with  another  string  (I  dare  not  say  of 


INTRODUCTION.  5 

poems)  called  "  The  Four  Seasons."  These  verses  obtained 
in  society  an  immense  success,  which,  later,  evaporated  com- 
pletely. Bernis  had  put  into  them  even  more  than  his  wont 
of  flowers,  garlands,  posies ;  whereupon  Voltaire  called  him, 
speaking  to  Bernis  himself,  "  la  belle  Babet,"  and  speaking 
to  others,  "  the  big  Babet,"  —  Babet  being  a  flower-girl  then 
in  vogue,  a  vender  of  what  is  called  "  The  Four  Seasons." 

Let  us  not  be  unjust  nor  too  rigorous  to  Bernis ;  he 
judged  himself  as  a  man  of  taste,  a  man  of  sense,  and  as  if 
there  were  nothing  of  the  poet  in  him.  Voltaire,  who  gave 
him  the  pretty  and  malicious  nickname,  was  the  first,  years 
after,  to  flatter  him  about  his  verses  and  to  play  the  role  of 
tempter.  In  1763,  Bernis,  after  his  ministry,  being  in  exile 
and  in  political  disgrace,  some  enemy  hoping  to  injure  him, 
or  some  greedy  publisher,  reprinted  his  "  Four  Seasons  "  with 
the  title  "  By  M.  le  C.  de  B."  « I  do  not  know,"  writes 
Voltaire,  liking  to  harp  upon  the  topic,  "  who  wrote  those 
'Four  Seasons;'  the  titlepage  says,  'By  M.  le  C.  de  B.' 
Apparently  that  is  Cardinal  de  Bembo;  they  say  that  car- 
dinal is  the  most  agreeable  man  in  the  world ;  he  has  loved 
literature  all  his  life ;  it  increases  his  pleasures,  also  people's 
respect  for  him,  and  it  softens  his  griefs  —  if  he  has  any." 
At  other  times  he  returns  to  his  recollections  of  Babet,  "  fill- 
ing her  beautiful  basket  with  that  profusion  of  flowers ; "  he 
jokes,  teases,  and  turns  criticism  into  praise.  Bernis  is 
grateful  for  the  intention,  but  does  not  allow  himself  to  be 
taken  in  by  it. 

"  As  for  Babet's  '  Seasons ' "  he  replies,  "  I  hear  they  are 
dreadfully  mangled ;  I  have  not  seen  them  these  twenty 
years.  After  my  death,  some  charitable  soul  will  purify 
those  amusements  of  my  youth,  which  have  been  cruelly 
ill-used,  and  mixed  up  with  all  sorts  of  platitudes.  As  for 
me,  I  laugh  at  the  trouble  people  give  themselves  uselessly 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

to  set  traps  for  me.  They  think  to  ruin  me  by  proving  that 
I  wrote  verses  till  I  was  thirty-two  [elsewhere  he  says 
thirty-five]  ;  they  do  me  only  honour ;  I  wish  with  all  my 
heart  I  had  the  talent  as  I  still  have  the  taste  for  poesy ; 
but  I  like  better  to  read  yours  than  I  did  to  make  mine.  If 
you  want  me  to  tell  you  my  secret  wholly,  it  is  that  I 
renounced  making  verses  when  I  saw  that  I  could  not  be 
superior  in  an  art  which  excludes  mediocrity." 

It  would  be  ungracious,  after  such  a  judgment,  so  full  of 
sense  and  candour,  to  give  ourselves  the  easy  pleasure  of 
laughing  at  Bernis  for  his  poetry. 

In  those  days,  and  in  spite  of  compliments,  all  sorts  of 
criticism  were  made  "to  him.  "  I  am  asked,"  he  writes  in 
1741, "how  it  is  possible  that  a  man  bom  to  live  in  the  great 
world  should  amuse  himself  in  writing,  and  in  becoming 
an  author."  To  these  critics,  great  seigneurs  and  men  of 
rank,  he  answers  that  "  if  it  is  not  shameful  to  know  how 
to  think  it  certainly  is  not  so  to  know  how  to  write ;  and  it 
is  not  the  making  of  books  that  dishonours'  a  man,  but  the 
melancholy  habit  of  making  bad  ones."  "With  regard  espe- 
cially to  writing  poetry,  Bernis  thus  reflects :  "  It  is  difficult 
to  be  young  and  live  in  Paris  without  having  a  desire  to 
make  verses,"  and  he  thinks,  as  to  such  as  are  made  with 
more  or  less  talent,  that  it  does  not  follow  that  such  talent 
brings  with  it  all  the  extravagances  that  render  certain 
versifiers  ridiculous.  "Happy  they,"  he  cries  with  feeling 
and  truth,  "  happy  they  who  have  received  a  talent  which 
follows  them  everywhere,  which,  in  silence  and  solitude, 
brings  before  their  eyes  all  that  absence  had  made  them 
lose;  which  lends  a  body  and  colours  to  all  that  breathes, 
which  gives  to  the  world  inhabitants  whom  the  vulgar 
mind  ignores." 

This  pronounced  literary  taste,  which  was,  as  it  were,  the 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

advertisement  of  a  careless  and  worldly  life,  did  Bernis  much 
harm  in  his  career.  Cardinal  de  Fleury,  a  friend  of  his  fam- 
ily, sent  for  him  and  told  him  that  if  he  continued  in  that 
course  he  must  expect  nothing  so  long  as  he,  Cardinal  de 
Fleury  lived.  On  which  Bernis  bowed  humbly  and  made 
his  well-known  speech:  " Monseigneur,  I  will  wait."  In 
quoting  it,  some  persons  have  supposed  that  it  was  said  in 
after  years  to  Boyer,  Bishop  of  Mirepoix,  minister  of  bene- 
fices ;  this  is  an  error,  which  takes  from  the  saying  its  point 
and  its  vengeance.  It  can  only  have  its  true  value  when 
addressed  by  a  very  young  man  to  a  very  old  prime-minister 
who  forgot  his  age  at  the  moment. 

Bernis,  man  of  society,  of  agreeable  conversation,  and  of  safe 
and  brilliant  intercourse,  to  which  his  ambition  seemed  lim- 
ited, was  early  known  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour ;  he  was  in 
favour  with  her  as  well  as  with  the  king,  but  he  had  never 
as  yet  obtained  anything  towards  making  his  fortune.  It 
was  the  French  Academy  that  opened  his  way  to  it.  He 
was  elected  a  member  at  the  close  of  1744,  that  is  to  say, 
when  he  was  twenty-nine  years  of  age.  He  succeeded  the 
Abbe*  Ge*doyn,  and  was  received  on  the  same  day  as  the 
Abbe*  Girard,  the  grammarian.  In  his  speech  of  thanks  he 
refers  modestly  to  his  youth,  which,  "  far  from  doing  him  an 
injury,  had  spoken  in  his  favour."  He  says  a  few  words  on 
the  usefulness  of  relations  between  men  of  the  world  and 
men  of  letters ;  on  the  advantages  the  language  had  gained 
from  such  relations  since  the  days  of  the  La  Eochefoucaulds, 
the  Saint-fivremonds,  and  the  Bussys;  adding  that  it  was 
on  the  footing  of  their  successor  that  he  himself  was  now 
entering  the  Company.  Cre'billon,  the  tragic  writer,  who 
received  him,  merely  gave  him  this  vague  eulogy :  "  Your 
genius  has  so  far  seemed  to  turn  chiefly  to  poesy."  In  the 
years  that  followed  his  reception,  Bernis  figures  more  than 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

once  at  the  head  of  the  Academy  on  the  solemn  occasions 
when  it  was  required  to  appear  at  Versailles.  The  Society 
chose  him  as  a  face  and  subject  agreeable  to  the  king. 

His  friends  say  that  at  this  period  he  aspired  only  to 
obtaining,  by  means  of  a  few  petty  benefices,  the  modest 
sum  of  six  thousand  francs  a  year,  which  he  thought  would 
make  him  happy  for  life.  But  Boyer,  Bishop  of  Mirepoix, 
who  was  minister  of  benefices  after  Cardinal  de  Fleury's 
death,  resisted  the  entreaties  of  all  Bernis'  friends,  even  the 
most  powerful :  he  made  a  condition  (which  to  us,  in  these 
days,  seems  quite  reasonable)  that  Bernis  should  bind  him- 
self seriously  to  his  profession,  should  cease  to  be  an  abbd  in 
name  only,  and  become  a  priest.  Bernis,  from  conscience 
and  a  sense  of  his  want  of  strength,  recoiled  and  delayed ; 
his  habits  and  morals  were  of  his  age  and  of  his  time ;  his 
heart  and  mind  had  nothing  irreligious  in  them;  but  the 
prospect  of  a  bishopric,  which  he  was  allowed  to  look 
for  at  the  cost  of  external  sacrifices  was  more  calculated 
to  frighten  than  to  tempt  him. 

"  No,  you  know  too  well  my  honour : 
Culpable,  perhaps,  through  frailty, 
But  an  enemy  to  imposture. 
I  will  not  add  impiety 
To  the  weaknesses  of  nature." 

That  is  what  he  said  to  his  friend  the  Due  de  Nivernais,  in 
an  "  Epistle  on  Ambition." 

More  than  that :  Bernis,  before  this  period,  and  as  far 
back  as  1737,  had  undertaken,  by  advice  of  Cardinal  de 
Polignac  (with  whom  he  had  more  than  one  tie  of  nature, 
frailty,  and  genius),  a  serious  poem,  finished  in  later  years  and 
sumptuously  printed  after  his  death  (Parma,  1795),  entitled 
"  Eeligion  Avenged."  In  this  poem,  which  in  truth  is  not  a 
poem  at  all,  and  is  destitute  of  invention  like  all  Bernis' 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

work,  are  some  very  good  philosophical  verses,  a  clear  expo- 
sition and  a  judicious  and  rather  vigorous-  refutation  of  the 
systems  of  Lucretius,  Pyrrho,  and  Spinoza.  I  have  all  my 
life  remembered  the  following  lines,  which  are  not  the  only 
ones  that  might  be  quoted :  — 

"God,  universal  Father,  watches  o'er  every  species; 
The  universe  is  subject  to  the  laws  of  his  wisdom ; 
From  man  it  descends  to  the  vilest  gnat ; 
It  needed  God  himself  to  create  a  worm." 

But  in  spite  of  these  attempts  at  sincere  conversion  and 
this  confession  of  principles,  Bernis  had  the  honesty  not  to 
take  advantage  of  them,  but  to  confess  his  weakness,  even  to 
Boyer ;  consequently,  his  fortunes  did  not  advance.  It  was 
then  that  Louis  XV.,  tired  of  the  struggle,  gave  him  a  pen- 
sion of  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year  and  a  lodging  under  the 
eaves  of  the  Tuileries ;  up  to  this  time,  Bernis  had  lived  in 
the  house  of  one  of  his  relatives,  the  Baron  de  Montmorency. 
One  day  when  Bernis  was  coming  from  Mme.  de  Pompadour's 
apartment  carrying  under  his  arm  a  roll  of  chintz  which  she 
had  given  him  to  furnish  his  new  apartment,  he  met  the 
king  on  the  staircase;  his  Majesty  insisted  on  knowing 
what  he  was  carrying ;  he  was  forced  to  show  the  chintz  and 
explain  its  purpose.  "  Very  well,"  said  Louis  XV.,  putting  a 
roll  of  louis  into  his  hand,  "  she  has  given  you  the  drapery, 
here 's  for  the  nails." 

Nevertheless,  impatience  came  to  Bernis  at  last,  and, 
according  to  the  witty  remark  of  Duclos,  seeing  that  he  had 
so  much  trouble  in  making  a  small  fortune,  he  resolved  on 
attempting  to  make  a  large  one :  it  proved  much  easier  to 
do.  V,  He  began  by  being  sent  as  ambassador  to  Venice 
in  1752.  Many  things,  more  or  less  romantic,  were  written 
and  printed  in  which  Bernis'  name  was  mixed  up  at  the 
date  of  this  embassy;  we  will  confine  ourselves  to  those 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

which  are  open  to  honourable  men.  We  have  his  corre- 
spondence with  Paris-Duverney  during  those  years;  it  is 
wholly  to  his  honour,  and  it  begins  to  make  him  known  to 
us  on  his  political  and  serious  side.  Paris-Duverney,  a 
superior  man  with  administrative  capacity  of  the  first  order 
and  a  singular  talent  for  matters  of  war,  was  already  in 
semi-retirement ;  he  was  then  almost  exclusively  employed 
in  realizing  his  last  patriotic  thought,  —  that  of  the  establish- 
ment of  the  ficole  Militaire.  We  know  that  he  was  one 
of  the  great  protectors  of  Beaumarchais  in  his  opening 
career;  we  now  find  him  tenderly  allied  with  Bernis,  in 
whom  he  recognizes  talent  and  a  future.  In  their  corre- 
spondence the  latter  enters  into  the  details  of  his  life  as 
an  ambassador :  "  My  house  is  decent,  well-furnished,  and 
nothing  shows  the  younger  son  of  Gascony.  I  try  at  the 
same  time  to  keep  it  orderly."  Like  all  Frenchmen  absent 
from  Paris  he  feels  a  void ;  he  complains  of  his  languishing 
life  and  regrets  society :  "  However,  if  one  is  ever  happy 
having  nothing  to  do  and  living  with  people  who  have 
nothing  to  do,  I  am.  Nothing  is  lacking  to  my  peace  and, 
I  dare  to  say  it,  to  the  consideration  that  is  shown  to  me ; 
but  I  need  a  little  more  food  for  my  mind."  Above  all, 
he  regrets  his  Saturdays,  the  day  of  the  week  which  he  was 
wont  to  spend  in  Paris  with  Duverney.  "  If  my  Saturdays 
were  only  preserved  to  me,"  he  writes,  "  I  should  applaud 
myself  for  having  taken  a  course  which  will  daily  become 
more  and  more  advantageous  for  me,  but  will  never  be  of 
any  use  to  the  king  so  long  as  I  stay  in  a  place  where 
there  is  nothing  to  do." 

This  inaction,  which  he  felt  from  the  first,  was  to  grow 
more  and  more  into  a  burden  upon  him ;  and  it  was  thus 
that  ennui  ended,  little  by  little,  by  inoculating  him  with 
ambition.  Meanwhile,  he  talks  with  his  friend,  speaks  of 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

that  which  interests  the  latter  most,  his  dear  foundation, 
that  Scole  Militaire  about  which  Duverney  encountered 
such  obstacles  at  its  outset.  The  worthy  founder  replies 
with  beautiful  and  noble  words  on  this  subject,  which  reveal, 
even  under  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  the  heart  of  a  citizen. 
I  wish  to  quote  a  few  of  them ;  be  it  only  to  bring  morality 
into  my  topic,  the  beginnings  of  which  have  been  a  little 
enervating :  — 

"  What  you  tell  me,  monsieur,"  writes  Duverney  to  Bernis, 
"  of  the  opinion  of  foreigners  on  this  establishment  is  little 
fitted  to  moderate  my  impatience ;  I  still  have  much  eager- 
ness in  these  matters,  which  contribute  to  the  glory  of  our 
master  and  the  good  of  the  nation.  .  .  .  Objections  have 
never  repulsed  me.  It  is  usual  for  great  enterprises  to  be 
thwarted.  Experience  has  also  taught  me  that  the  value 
of  great  things  is  never  better  known  than  to  those  who 
have  not  seen  them  born.  We  praise,  we  admire  to-day 
what  was  blamed  formerly.  Under  M.  de  Louvois  the 
friends  of  M.  Colbert  said  that  the  Hotel  Koyal  des  In- 
valides  was  only  a  humiliating  hospital  for  soldiers  ;  to-day, 
lieutenant-colonels  do  not  blush  to  retire  there.  Under 
Mme.  de  Maintenon  it  was  asserted  that  the  proofs  of  pov- 
erty required  for  admission  to  Saint  Cyr  would  alienate  the 
nobles ;  to-day,  nobles  in  easy  circumstances  are  not  ashamed 
to  say  that  they  are  poor  hi  order  to  gain  admission  for 
their  daughters,  who,  beneath  that  brown  woollen  gown 
which  formerly  seemed  so  repulsive,  are  showing  more  van- 
ity and  pride  than  is  desirable.  Time  removes  objects 
from  passions  that  obscure  them ;  and,  when  they  are  good 
in  themselves,  we  come  at  last  to  seeing  only  that  good." 

Bernis  is  worthy  of  this  generous  intercourse  to  which 
friendship  invites  him;  he  encourages  his  friend,  he  com- 
forts him  with  affectionate  warmth:  "I  would  fain  gather 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

all  good  hearts  to  give  them  to  you."  He  desires  to  be  in 
a  position  to  defend  him  against  the  injustices  and  the  dis- 
likes that  begin  to  overwhelm  him :  "  Would  to  God  that 
I  were  within  reach  of  bearing  testimony  to  the  truth  I  with 
what  pleasure  should  I  render  an  account  of  the  sorrows 
of  the  friend  and  citizen  of  which  I  have  been  the  witness 
and  the  repository ! "  Here  Bernis  rises  to  ideas  which  are 
by  no  means  foreign  to  him,  although  we  are  not  accustomed 
to  associate  them  with  his  name ;  he  speaks  in  accents  that 
come  from  his  soul :  — 

"  If  men  were  not  ungrateful,"  he  says ;  "  I  would  forgive 
the  folly,  inconsistency,  ill-temper,  and  all  the  other  imper- 
fections that  certainly  degrade  humanity  ;  but  it  is  hard  not 
to  gather  the  fruits  of  our  benefactions  !  it  is  the  sower  sow- 
ing his  seed  on  stony  ground.  However,  in  spite  of  that 
ingratitude,  there  are  superior  souls  who  desire  to  make  the 
happiness  of  men  without  expecting  other  reward  than  that 
of  being  satisfied  with  themselves." 

In  another  place  he  says :  — 

"  If  you  were  reasonable  only  you  would  not  be  so  great  a 
citizen ;  zeal  must  face  obstacles  which  reason  tells  us  to 
avoid.  As  for  me,  I  think  that  what  brings  ruin  on  States 
is  the  so-called  wisdom  attributed  to  those  who  dare  not  run 
the  risks  that  always  attend  the  effort  to  procure  the  greatest 
possible  good.  We  are  too  anxious  to  make  our  fortune  in 
these  days,  and  too  fearful  of  losing  it  when  made :  this  is 
the  universal  evil  which  is  now  afflicting  Europe  ;  for,  thank 
God,  whatever  may  be  said,  we  are  not  the  only  ones  who 
deserve  blame.  You  see,  monsieur,  that,  in  spite  of  myself, 
moral  ideas  are  getting  possession  of  me ;  that  is  the  malady 
of  those  who  are  nearly  always  in  solitude." 

These  letters  of  Bernis  and  Duverney,  which  have  nothing 
very  interesting  in  their  topics,  and  which  were  printed  in 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

1790  with  the  most  ridiculous  and  impertinent  notes  that 
can  be  imagined,  are  curious  when  read,  as  I  have  read 
them,  from  the  point  of  view  of  biography  and  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  two  characters.  While  we  feel  in  Duvemey  a 
grandeur  of  soul  accompanied  by  kindness  and  even  bon- 
homie, the  temperate,  noble,  human,  and  fairly  elevated 
character  of  Bernis  comes  forth  naturally;  his  mind  gives 
glimpses  of  shades  and  perceptions  of  delicacy.  Thus, 
speaking  of  one  of  their  mutual  friends  who,  under  critical 
circumstances,  had  written  to  Duverney  a  letter  couched  in 
a  semblance  of  philosophy  and  of  a  nature  to  cause  delusion, 
he  says:  "The  philosophical  spirit  that  is  now  spreading 
over  the  surface  of  the  world  makes  it  difficult  to  distin- 
guish at  first  sight  fools  from  wise  men,  or  honest  men  from 
rascals.  Every  one  seems  rich  because  every  one  has  silver 
or  false  coin ;  but  a  few  days  suffice  to  distinguish  the  one 
from  the  other."  This  shrewd  remark  of  Bernis  on  the 
varnish  of  the  philosophical  spirit  which  was  everywhere  at 
that  time,  applies  to-day  to  many  another  varnish,  equally 
wide-spreading,  —  varnish  of  talent,  varnish  of  mind,  varnish 
of  judgment.  Each  man  takes  his  varnish  every  morning  on 
reading  his  newspaper;  the  journalist  has  taken  his  the 
night  before ;  the  dye  of  the  one  colours  the  other ;  in 
twelve  hours  every  one  repeats  himself.  Where  is  the  real 
spirit,  the  new  and  original  judgment?  And  how  much 
time  and  how  many  occasions  are  required  to  test  and  dis- 
tinguish them.  A  few  days  do  not  suffice,  as  Bernis  may 
then  have  thought. 

Bernis  never  became  a  great  directing  minister.  Could 
he  have  been  one  ?  I  do  not  know.  Fate  did  not  give  him 
time  to  repair  his  mistakes  or  correct  his  hazardous  under- 
takings; but  Bernis  was  always  an  excellent  ambassador; 
he  had  insinuation,  conciliation,  courtesy;  he  represented 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

his  position  with  taste  and  magnificence ;  he  will  always  be 
the  model  of  a  French  ambassador  in  Eome,  such  as  he  was 
for  twenty  years.  It  was  in  Venice  that  he  served  his 
apprenticeship,  at  any  rate  for  externals,  public  affairs  being 
almost  nothing  there.  "  As  this  embassy,"  he  remarks,  "  is 
more  for  show  than  for  necessity,  it  is  sometimes  thought 
that  any  one  is  fitted  for  it ;  in  which  they  are  hugely  mis- 
taken ; "  and  he  defines  admirably  the  qualities  that  are  es- 
sential in  the  representative  of  the  king  if  he  desires  to  be 
respected  in  a  post  of  this  kind.  Let  him  speak  for  himself, 
for  we  cannot  say  the  thing  as  well  as  he  :  — 

"When  we  have  business  to  negotiate  with  a  foreign 
Court,  it  is  the  manner  in  which  it  is  conducted  that  fixes 
the  attention  and  decides  the  esteem  in  which  we  are  held. 
But  when  there  is  nothing  to  negotiate  or  disentangle  with 
a  Court,  we  are  judged  by  our  personality ;  thus  it  requires 
great  attention  to  avoid  the  censure  of  a  crowd  of  inquisitive 
and  penetrating  observers,  who  are  seeking  to  unravel  your 
character  and  your  principles,  while  you  yourself  are  wholly 
unable  to  divert  their  attention.  If  the  king  desires  to 
make  his  crown  and  his  nation  respected  in  Venice,  he  must 
always  send  here  a  man  of  common-sense ;  that  will  suffice, 
provided  he  is  a  man  with  a  lofty  soul  and  decent  manners 
for  it  is  impossible  to  awe  a  very  libertine  nation,  I  might 
even  say  a  debauched  one,  except  by  the  opposite  morals." 

Such  words  are  noteworthy  on  Bernis'  lips.  Did  he 
justify  them  in  all  respects  ?  At  any  rate  he  could  not 
better  show  the  value  which  he  placed  on  esteem,  and 
from  that  period  he  knew  how  to  obtain  it,  no  matter  what 
the  secret  chronicles  may  say. 

Nevertheless  the  two  years  and  a  half  that  Bernis  spent 
in  Venice  seemed  to  him  extremely  long.  He  felt  that  his 
Versailles  friends  would  not  leave  him  there  eternally ;  he  had 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

the  vague  but  certain  hope  of  a  future  return  :  "  My  greatest 
pain  is  that  of  aspiring  to  be  useful,  to  open  modestly  a  way 
to  it,  yet  to  be  ever  driven  back  into  inaction  and  uselessness ; 
so  much  for  my  moral  condition."  Physically  his  health 
suffered  for  want  of  exercise ;  his  size  increased  and  gout  at- 
tacked his  knees.  It  was  then  that  ambition  came  to  him  ; 
from  the  moment  that  he  ceased  to  be  a  private  individual, 
enjoying  as  he  pleased  the  charms  and  pleasures  of  society, 
he  could  only  be  a  busy  and  useful  public  man ;  he  sums  up 
this  alternative  in  admirable  terms :  "  To  be  free  and  master  of 
one's  leisure,  or  to  fill  one's  time  with  labours  of  which  the 
State  shall  reap  the  fruits  —  these  are  the  two  positions  an 
honest  man  should  desire ;  a  medium  career  is  nothingness." 

Certain  ministers  at  Versailles,  who  feared  his  return,  set 
traps  for  him  ;  they  employed  all  kinds  of  manoeuvres  to  keep 
him  fixed  in  this  lagune.  "  I  see  plainly,"  he  says,  "  that  by 
their  tricks  they  will  find  a  way  to  make  me  stay  with  my 
arms  folded  in  this  cul-de-sac."  Duverney  counsels  and 
calms  him  under  these  attacks  of  impatience,  which  are  always 
tempered  in  Bernis  with  philosophy,  and  never  go  so  far  as 
irritation.  "  All  things  here  below  depend  on  circumstances," 
writes  Duverney,  "  and  circumstances  have  such  frequent 
revolutions  that  the  wisest  thing  to  do  is  to  prepare  ourselves 
to  take  advantage  of  them  the  moment  they  turn  our  way. 
It  is  almost  always  dangerous  to  try  to  force  them ;  nothing 
is  gained  but  torments,  which  increase  as  our  hopes  retreat ; 
and  we  pass  our  lives  without  a  moment  of  real  satisfaction. 
We  should  always  be  ready  to  act,  but  force  nothing  ..." 

Money  was  a  great  torment  to  Bernis ;  he  had  nothing  but 
his  salary,  and  the  first  year  of  his  embassy  he  spent  twenty- 
three  thousand  francs  beyond  it.  German  princes  and 
princesses  and  personages  of  mark  were  ceaselessly  passing 
through  Venice  on  their  way  to  Italy,  and  had  to  be  entertained. 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

In  November,  1754,  the  Due  de  Penthievre  arrived  at  the  em- 
bassy with  his  suite  and  lodged  there  thirteen  days.  "  I  got 
through  with  this  embarrassment  very  well,"  says  Bernis 
gallantly,  "  after  many  expenses,  incurred  in  profusion,  but 
without  extravagance ;  and  there  remains  to  me  the  friendship 
of  a  prince  honest  man,  and  the  satisfaction  of  having  con- 
tented all  the  ranks  of  his  household."  Duverney  takes 
upon  himself  to  further  Bernis'  interests  at  Court ;  the  only 
urgent  thing  is  pecuniary  help.  If  some  good  abbey  should 
fall  vacant  it  would  be  a  great  point  to  obtain  it.  As  for 
better  political  places,  it  is  agreed  between  the  two  friends 
that  it  would  be  wiser  to  press  nothing ;  the  agreement  is : 
"  In  regard  to  places,  one  should  know  how  to  raise  the  siege 
when  they  defend  themselves  too  long."  On  this  point 
Bernis  has  firm  tactics,  a  gentle  and  insinuating  method, 
namely :  "  Never  to  take  places  by  assault,  and  never  to  re- 
fuse those  that  surrender  of  themselves."  Finally,  the  end  of 
his  apprenticeship  arrives,  and  Bernis,  recalled  to  Paris,  sets 
out  for  France  at  the  close  of  April,  1755. 

Duclos,  Bernis'  friend  and  confidant,  has  very  well  de- 
scribed to  us  the  employment  of  his  life  during  these  years 
that  are  now  to  be  so  busy.  This  was  the  moment  when  the 
alliance  was  closely  formed  between  France  and  Austria,  and 
the  Treaty  of  Versailles  was  conceived  and  discussed  secretly. 
Bernis,  though  not  yet  minister,  was  the  principal  agent,  the 
confidential  plenipotentiary ;  he  debated  and  settled  the  arti- 
cles with  the  Imperial  Ambassador,  M.  de  Staremberg. 
Persons  have  done  Bernis  the  honour  to  attribute  to  him  the 
first  idea  of  this  treaty  which  upset  the  policy  of  Kichelieu 
and  changed  the  system  of  continental  alliances  in  Europe. 
They  have  done  more,  they  have  gone  so  far  as  to  say  that 
in  thus  taking  sides  with  Austria  against  Prussia  it  was  the 
poet,  the  rhymester  within  him  that  sought  revenge.  Fred- 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

erick  the  Great  at  the  end  of  an  "  Epistle "  to  Comte  Gotter, 
in  which  he  describes  the  infinite  details  of  human  industry 
and  labour  had  said :  — 

"  I  have  not  described  all ;  for  the  matter 's  immense, 
And  I  leave  to  Comte  Bernis  his  barren  abundance." 

It  has  been  supposed  that  Bernis  knew  of  this  "  Epistle  "  and 
that  those  lines  were  the  motive  that  made  him  counsel  the 
powers  at  Versailles  to  abandon  the  King  of  Prussia  and  ally 
themselves  with  the  Empress.  Turgot,  in  certain  anonymous 
verses  which  went  the  rounds  of  Paris  and  vividly  exposed 
the  withering  disasters  with  which  the  Seven  Years'  War 
was  afflicting  France,  exclaimed :  — 

"  Bernis,  have  you  victims  enough  ? 
And  a  king's  contempt  for  your  little  rhymes  — 
Is  it  duly  avenged  ?  " 

But  in  this  explanation,  since  so  constantly  repeated,  nothing 
is  correct;  the  grave  Turgot  imagined  a  gratuitous  cause, 
and  if  petty  motives  did  indeed  contribute  to  produce  those 
great  calamities,  Bernis  at  least  had  no  cause  to  blush  for  so 
mean  and  miserable  a  motive  as  that  of  which  he  is  accused. 
Bernis  had  no  rancour  of  that  kind  against  the  Great  Frederick, 
and  his  heart  of  an  honest  man  was  far  higher  placed  than 
that.  Algarotti,  who  had  known  him  when  ambassador  in 
Venice,  wrote  to  the  King  of  Prussia  (January  11,  1754): 
"  I  see  quite  often  the  French  ambassador,  who  is  well-fitted 
to  represent  the  most  agreeable  nation  upon  earth.  He  flatters 
himself,  Sire,  that  the  course  he  has  now  taken  up  may  lead 
him  to  again  pay  his  court  to  your  Majesty.  He  has  many 
titles  by  which  to  admire  you,  Sire  :  as  minister,  as  one  of 
the  Forty,  as  a  man  of  wit.  I  should  see  him  oftener  than  I 
do  if  his  cook  were  not  so  good."  When  Madame  de 
Pompadour  confided  to  Bernis  for  the  first  time  this  idea  of 

VOL.    I.  —  2 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

the  alliance  with  Austria,  so  contrary  to  established  policy, 
he  began  by  objections ;  Duclos,  on  Bernis'  behalf,  says  so 
expressly.  Frederick,  an  equitable  adversary,  confirms  it  in 
his  History ;  he  blames  Bernis  only  for  lending  himself  to 
views  the  imprudence  of  which  he  felt  up  to  a  certain 
point,  and  which  he,  later,  strove  to  moderate,  but  in 
vain. 

"  So  long  as  it  was  a  question  of  establishing  his  fortune," 
writes  the  historian-king,  "  all  ways  were  the  same  to  him 
to  reach  his  object;  but  as  soon  as  he  found  himself  es- 
tablished he  sought  to  maintain  himself  in  office  by  principles 
less  fickle  and  more  conformable  to  the  permanent  interests 
of  the  State.  His  views  turned  wholly  towards  peace,  to 
end,  on  the  one  hand,  a  war  of  which  he  foresaw  only  its 
disadvantages,  and  on  the  other,  to  withdraw  his  nation  from 
an  enforced  and  adverse  alliance,  of  which  France  was  bear- 
ing the  burden  and  from  which  the  house  of  Austria  would 
alone  reap  the  fruits  and  the  advantages.  He  addressed 
himself  to  England  by  silent  and  secret  means ;  he  opened 
negotiations  there  for  peace;  but  the  Marquise  de  Pompa- 
dour being  of  a  contrary  opinion,  he  at  once  found  himself 
stopped  short  in  his  measures.  His  imprudent  actions  had 
raised  him,  his  wise  views  ruined  him;  he  was  dismissed 
for  having  talked  of  peace." 

At  the  very  moment  when  Bernis  was  actually  dismissed 
Frederick  spoke  of  him  to  Lord  Marshall  in  the  same 
manner :  "  People  exaggerated  Bernis'  merits  while  he  was 
in  favour ;  and  now  they  blame  him  too  much  —  he  deserves 
neither." 

This  important  point  in  the  history  of  the  eighteenth 
century  will  never  be  completely  cleared  up  until  a  con- 
scientious historian  is  allowed  to  go  to  work  on  the  State 
papers  and  has  made  continuous  extracts  from  them.  Still, 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

the  general  meaning  of  the  conclusion  may  be  foreseen  and 
judged  in  advance.  As  to  the  aspect  of  Bernis  himself  and 
the  movements  of  his  mind  amid  this  torrent,  we  may  gain 
some  idea  from  the  letters  and  notes  which  he  continues 
to  address  to  Duverney.  During  that  busy  year  (1756- 
1757),  when  he  puts  his  hand  to  great  affairs  before  he 
enters  upon  his  ministry,  he  is  no  longer  the  infirm  and 
languishing  man  of  Venice,  who  has  gout  in  his  knees, 
and  whose  life  drags  on  from  one  inflammation  of  the  chest 
to  another ;  he  is  prodigal  of  himself  in  society,  spends  half 
his  nights  at  cards  and  pretends  that  he  likes  it,  the  better 
to  hide  his  other  game;  for  as  yet  he  is  not  a  minister; 
the  secret  negotiation  he  is  conducting  is  carried  on  outside 
of  the  cabinet,  and  those  who  are  in  office  watch  him.  In 
the  midst  of  all  these  cares  he  was  never  in  better  health. 
His  nature,  apparently  so  epicurean  and  lazy,  has  found  its 
element.  "We  are  in^the  throes  of  a  great  decision,"  he 
writes  to  Duverney  (October  13,  1756)  ;  "  my  health  is  good 
in  spite  of  the  labour,  which  increases  and  will  increase  day 
by  day." 

His  only  complaint  is  not  to  have  all  to  do,  not  to  have 
the  whole  burden  upon  himself:  "The  final  orders  have 
arrived  (Fontainebleau,  November  5,  1756) ;  I  am  now 
employed  in  the  greatest  work  that  ever  was  done.  They 
will  not  see  that  everything  depends  on  the  execution,  and 
that  it  is  unbearable  to  be  charged  with  a  plan  without 
having  the  right  to  watch  over  its  execution  and  conduct 
it."  That  will  be  his  continual  complaint  throughout  the 
whole  period  of  his  favour;  for  even  after  he  entered  the 
ministry  he  was  constantly  thwarted  by  those,  or  to  speak 
more  truly,  by  her,  who  used  him  only  as  an  instrument: 
"They  made  me  dance  upon  a  great  stage  with  fetters  on 
my  feet  and  hands.  I  consider  myself  very  lucky  to  have 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

come  out  of  it  and  saved  my  reputation."  He  did  not  save 
it  as  intact  as  he  flattered  himself. 

Bernis,  entering  the  Council  as  minister  of  State  in  Janu- 
ary, 1757,1  appointed  secretary  of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs 
in  June  of  the  same  year,  promoted  to  the  dignity  of  car- 
dinal in  October,  1758,  was  suddenly  superseded  by  Choiseul 
in  November,  and  almost  immediately  sent  into  exile  at  his 
abbey  of  Saint-Me'dard  of  Soissons.  The  first  emotion  over, 
he  told  himself,  with  the  good  sense  and  reflection  devoid  of 
bitterness  with  which  he  was  provided  and  which  formed 
the  basis  of  his  character:  "I  have  no  longer  my  fortune 
to  make;  I  have  only  to  honestly  fulfil  the  career  of  my 
profession  and  acquire  the  consideration  which  ought  to 
accompany  a  great  dignity:  for  that,  retirement  is  admi- 
rably well  fitted." 

It  is  under  this  last  form,  no  longer  political  nor  yet 
social,  and  not  absolutely  ecclesiastical,  but  agreeably  diver- 
sified and  mingled,  —  it  is  in  this  retirement,  soon  to  be 
followed  and  crowned  by  a  great  embassy,  that  we  must 
study  him  henceforth  in  his  quality  as  cardinal,  finding 
pleasure  in  recognizing  him  more  and  more  as  an  eminent 
personage,  of  gentle  mind,  rare  culture,  and  infinite  social 
art. 

I  shall  here  make  a  short  digression  and  profit  by  an 
unexpected  document,  the  knowledge  of  which  I  owe  to  the 
kindness  of  M.  le  Due  Pasquier,  former  chancellor  of  France. 
This  document,  which  appears  to  have  come  originally  from 
Cardinal  Lome'nie  de  Brienne,  consists  of  a  manuscript  col- 
lection of  the  private  letters  of  Bernis  written  by  him 
during  his  ministry  to  M.  de  Choiseul,  then  our  ambassador 
at  Vienna,  and  subsequently  his  successor  in  the  ministry 
of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  to  the  Marquise  de  Pompadour  and 
1  Two  weeks  before  the  death  of  the  Marquis  d'Argenson.  —  TR. 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

the  king,  written  at  the  close  of  his  ministry  and  during 
the  first  days  of  his  dismissal.  They  explain  the  causes 
of  his  retirement  and  fall,  more  clearly  than  our  previous 
knowledge  of  them.  They  allow  us  to  judge  with  precision 
of  his  degree  of  incompetency  at  the  head  of  public  affairs, 
and  also  of  the  excuses  that  belong  to  his  defence.  In  what 
I  have  now  to  say,  I  shall  take  Bernis  less  as  minister  than 
as  witness  and  reporter  of  the  deplorable  situation  he  con- 
tributed to  create,  and  in  which  he  took  part  without  having 
either  the  strength  or  the  influence  to  produce  a  remedy. 
The  sight,  which  I  shall  merely  glance  at  after  Bernis 
without  enlarging  upon  it,  is  distressing ;  but  it  holds  within 
it  certain  stern  lessons  which  history  has  already  drawn ;  it 
makes  us  penetrate  into  the  causes  of  the  ruin  of  the  old 
monarchy;  it  makes  us  feel  to  what  a  point  the  noblest 
nations  (our  own  in  particular)  depend,  for  the  spirit  that 
animates  them  and  for  their  inward  vigour,  on  the  govern- 
ments that  rule  them  and  on  the  men  who  are  at  their  head. 
The  condition  of  public  opinion  in  France  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Seven  Years'  War,  so  lightly  undertaken,  was 
not  what  it  became  a  year  later ;  the  new  alliance  with 
Austria,  conceived  in  defiance  of  ancient  maxims,  filled  all 
minds  and  flattered  all  hopes.  The  Empress  Maria  Theresa, 
in  her  brave  and  passionate  struggle  against  the  aggrandize- 
ment of  Prussia,  had  employed  a  special  blandishment  in 
her  effort  to  win  France;  she  had  not  disdained  to  make 
herself  the  "  friend "  of  Madame  de  Pompadour,  and  sides 
were  taken  with  Austria  at  Versailles  precisely  as  we  declare 
for  private  friends  against  all  others  in  the  social  cabal  of  a 
clique.  Bernis,  just  returned  from  Venice,  and  who  was,  as 
it  were,  in  the  hollow  of  Madame  de  Pompadour's  hand,  was 
charged  with  drawing  up  the  plan  and  negotiating  the  treaty 
of  alliance.  In  spite  of  his  first  objections  as  a  man  of  sense, 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

he  did  not  long  resist  the  general  impulse  which  carried 
away  every  one  about  him ;  he  was  dazzled,  and  believed  he 
was  contributing  to  the  greatest  political  operation  attempted 
since  the  days  of  Eichelieu. 

At  first,  all  things  appeared  to  go  well ;  the  new  alliance 
so  extolled  by  the  Court  was  very  well  taken  by  the  public 
until  the  news  came  of  the  first  disasters.  We  had  begun 
by  successes;  the  taking  of  Port-Mahon,  the  victory  of 
Hastenbeck,  the  first  advantages  of  the  Due  de  Kichelieu 
seemed  to  promise  an  easy  triumph  to  this  novelty  in  diplo- 
matic combination.  Bernis,  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
since  June,  1757,  kept  all  his  hopes  alive  until  the  moment 
when  the  Due  de  Eichelieu  concluded  with  the  Duke  of 
Cumberland  the  convention  of  Kloster-Zeven  (September  8, 
1757),  which  allowed  the  enemy's  army  to  exist,  and  was 
never  to  be  ratified.  It  is  here  that  Bernis'  correspondence 
with  Choiseul  (then  Comte  de  Stainville)  gives  to  us  the 
connected  train  of  his  thoughts  and  his  anxieties.  "  M. 
de  Eichelieu,  my  dear  count,"  he  writes  (September  20, 
1757),  "has  rather  forced  the  affair  of  the  convention.  No 
act  was  ever  less  pondered,  or  concluded  with  less  formalities. 
The  Duke  of  Mecklenburg  and  the  Swedes  will  not  be 
pleased,  and  I  fear  much  that  annoyances  may  arise  which 
will  counterbalance  the  advantages.  It  is  true  that  this 
event  is  glorious  in  appearance,  and  gives  M.  de  Eichelieu 
the  facility  to  put  himself  forward ;  but  beware  the  conse- 
quences !  "  From  this  moment  the  chances  of  war  turn  and 
become  unfavourable.  Two  letters  from  Bernis,  written  on 
the  news  of  the  defeat  at  Eosbach,  are  such  that  we  cannot 
extract  them ;  it  is  not  the  defeat,  but  certain  details  of  the 
defeat  which  should  be  buried.  Will  it  be  believed  that  on 
learning  of  this  disaster  nothing  was  thought  of  at  Versailles 
but  the  "  poor  general,"  who  allowed  himself  to  be  beaten  ? 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

"  They  saw  nothing  at  Court  in  the  lost  battle  but  M.  de 
Soubise,  nothing  of  the  State.  Our  friend  [notre  amie ; 
Madame  de  Pompadour  is  always  mentioned  thus  between 
Bernis  and  Choiseul],  our  friend  gave  him  the  strongest 
proofs  of  friendship,  and  the  king  also."  What  is  worse 
than  this  condolence  is  that  they  think  only  of  procuring 
him  a  revenge,  and  Bernis  himself,  since  he  must,  lends 
himself  to  it.  "  The  king  loves  M.  de  Soubise,"  he  writes 
the  following  spring  to  Duverney;  "he  wants  to  give 
him  the  opportunity  to  revenge  himself  for  Eosbach ;  there 
is  the  truth.  One  must  not  oppose  one's  master,  but  serve 
him  as  he  wishes,  especially  when  circumstances  render  all 
other  courses  impossible,  or  dangerous." 

That  which  appears  most  distinctly  in  Bernis  from  end  to 
end  of  these  letters  to  Choiseul  is  the  character  of  an  honest 
man  below  the  situation ;  one  who  is  the  designated  and 
responsible  author  of  an  alliance  now  shown  to  be  fatal,  who 
feels  himself  involved,  and  has  not  the  power  to  either  hold 
firm  or  to  repair  the  eviL  "  One  does  not  die  of  grief,"  he 
writes  to  Choiseul  (December  13,  175 7), "inasmuch  as  I  am 
not  dead  after  September  8  "  (period  of  the  heedless  conven- 
tion of  Kloster-Zeven).  "  The  blunders  since  then  have  been 
heaped  up  in  a  manner  that  cannot  be  explained  except  by 
bad  intentions.  I  have  spoken  with  the  utmost  force  to  God 
and  his  saints.  I  excite  a  little  rise  in  the  pulse;  then 
lethargy  returns ;  great  sad  eyes  are  opened,  and  all  is  said." 
He  finds  that  France  has  neither  king,  nor  generals,  nor 
ministers ;  and  that  expression  seems  to  him  so  true  and 
just  that  he  consents  to  be  included  himself  in  the  category 
of  those  who  do  not  exist.  "It  seems  to  me  that  I  am 
minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  in  Limbo.  Try,  my  dear  count, 
if  you  cannot  excite  better  than  I  have  done  the  principle  of 
life  which  is  dying  within  us.  As  for  me,  I  have  struck  all 


24  INTRODUCTION. 

my  great  blows,  and  I  am  about,  like  the  others,  to  have  a 
paralysis  of  feeling,  but  without  ceasing  to  do  my  duty 
as  a  citizen  and  an  honest  man." 

At  this  date  there  was  no  direction  in  France,  neither  in 
the  armies  nor  in  the  cabinet.  The  affairs  of  the  ministry 
of  war  were  still,  through  the  subalterns,  under  the  in- 
fluences of  "  Les  Ormes  "  [The  Elms],  that  is  to  say,  under 
that  of  Comte  d'Argenson  now  in  exile  on  his  estate  at  Les 
Ormes,  having  quitted  the  ministry  in  the  early  months  of 
1757.1  Insubordination,  and  want  of  discipline  are  every- 
where ;  no  one  is  feared  or  obeyed ;  the  rivalry  and  dis- 
union of  the  Due  de  Kichelieu  and  the  Prince  de  Soubise 
have  led  to  the  disasters  of  the  close  of  the  campaign; 
demands  are  made  on  the  Mare*chal  de  Belleisle  and 
Duverney  for  memoranda  and  plans  for  the  coming  cam- 
paign which  will  not  be  followed.  In  the  midst  of  these 
reverses  which  affect  so  profoundly  the  military  honour  and 
the  future  of  the  monarchy,  the  apathy  of  Louis  XV.  is 
total.  "There  is  no  such  example  of  playing  so  great  a 
game  with  the  same  indifference  as  a  game  of  cards."  The 
sole  honour  to  Bernis,  charged  with  the  political  side,  but 
excluded,  naturally,  from  military  questions,  and  having 
only  a  trifle  more  favour  than  others,  but  no  more  authority 
or  influence  in  decisive  moments,  is  that  of  comprehending 
the  evil  and  suffering  from  it.  "  Sensitive,  and,  if  I  may 
dare  to  say  so,  sensible  as  I  am,  I  am  dying  on  the  rack,  and 
my  martyrdom  is  useless  to  the  State."  He  cries  out  for  a 
government  at  any  cost,  with  nerve,  consistency,  and  •  fore- 
sight :  "  Please  God  to  send  us  a  will  of  some  sort,  or  some 
one  who  would  have  it  for  us !  I  would  be  his  valet  de 
chambre  if  need  be,  and  with  all  my  heart." 

1  He  was  succeeded  in  it  by  his  nephew  the  Marquis  de  Paulmy,  son  of 
his  late  brother,  the  Marquis  d'Argenson.  —  TK. 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

Bernis  had  nothing  in  him  which  awed  the  king  or  Madame 
de  Pompadour.  The  latter  had  known  him  in  poverty ;  she 
had  drawn  him  out  of  it ;  she  enjoyed  him  for  the  gentleness 
of  his  intercourse  and  the  charm  of  his  society ;  but  she  con- 
sidered him  at  all  times  as  her  creation.  The  minister  was 
to  her  still  the  little  abbe*,  smiling  and  flowery,  who  came  to 
her  lever  on  Sunday  mornings  and  whom  she  tapped  famil- 
iarly on  the  cheek  with  a  "  Good-day,  abbe*."  It  is  related 
that  on  one  occasion,  during  the  altercations  at  the  close  of 
their  intercourse,  she  reproached  him  sharply  with  having 
lifted  him  out  of  the  dust ;  to  which  he  answered  with  dig- 
nity, alluding  to  his  rank :  "  Madame,  a  Comte  de  Lyon  is 
never  lifted  out  of  the  dust."  However  that  may  be,  it  is 
certain  that  Bernis  never  had  the  slightest  ascendency  over 
the  king  or  over  Madame  de  Pompadour.  It  was  M.  de 
Choiseul  who,  without  being  above  him  in  birth,  but  adding 
to  his  birth  at  all  times  the  habits  and  state  of  a  great 
seigneur,  was  able  to  win  that  necessary  influence,  and  jus- 
tify it  definitively  by  his  capacity. 

In  any  Study  of  the  eighteenth  century  Madame  de  Pom- 
padour is  inevitable.  We  must  not  fear  to  call  things  and 
epochs  by  their  name ;  and  the  name  under  which  the  eigh- 
teenth century  may  most  justly  in  many  respects  be  designated, 
for  the  taste,  the  style  universally  reigning  in  the  arts  of 
design,  hi  the  fashions  and  usages  of  life,  in  poesy  even, —  is 
it  not  that  coquettish  and  decorative  name  which  seems  to 
be  made  expressly  for  the  beautiful  marquise  and  to  rhyme 
so  well  with  amour  ?  All  the  arts  of  that  period  bear  her 
seal ;  the  great  painter  Watteau,  who  came  before  her  time 
and  who  created  a  magic  pastoral  world,  seems  to  have  deco- 
rated and  embellished  it  expressly  that  she  might  take  posses- 
sion of  it  to  bloom  and  reign  there.  The  successors  of 
Watteau  delighted  unanimously  in  recognizing  the  sceptre 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

of  their  natural  protectress.  In  poesy,  it  is  not  Bernis  alone 
who  is  wholly  Pompadour,  it  is  Voltaire  in  three-fourths  of 
his  lesser  verses,  it  is  the  whole  light  poetry  of  the  day; 
even  in  prose  we  have  Marmontel  in  his  "  Contes  Moraux," 
and  Montesquieu  himself  in  his  "  Temple  de  Gnide."  The 
"style  Pompadour"  unquestionably  existed  before  the  ad- 
vent of  the  beautiful  marquise,  but  she  sums  it  up  in  herself, 
she  crowns  it  and  personifies  it. 

Jeanne-Antoinette  Poisson,  born  in  Paris,  December  29, 
1721,  issued  from  that  rich  bourgeoisie  and  that  world  of 
finance  which  pushed  itself  forward  in  the  last  half  of  Louis 
XV.'s  reign,  and  in  which  it  was  not  rare  to  find  a  witty  and 
sumptuous  epicureanism  ;  to  this  she  added  elegance.  Every 
one  agrees  in  saying  that  in  her  youth  she  had  all  the  talents 
and  all  the  graces.  Her  education  had  been  most  careful  in 
the  arts  that  charm;  everything  had  been  taught  to  her, 
except  morality.  "  I  found  there,"  writes  President  Renault 
to  Mme.  du  Deffand,  referring  to  some  social  occasion, "  one  of 
the  prettiest  women  I  have  ever  seen, —  Mme.  d'fitioles.  She 
knows  music  perfectly,  she  sings  with  all  the  taste  and  gaiety 
possible,  knows  hundreds  of  songs,  plays  comedy  at  Etioles 
on  a  stage  as  fine  as  that  of  the  Opera,  with  scenery  and 
changes  of  it." 

There  she  is,  such  as  she  was  before  her  meeting  with  Louis 
XV.,  —  daughter  of  a  gay  mother  who  was  kept  by  a  farmer- 
general,  married  as  if  provisionally  to  a  nephew  of  the  latter. 
It  appears  that  very  early  the  whole  family,  seeing  how 
seductive  and  enchanting  she  was,  destined  her  for  higher 
things,  and  were  only  awaiting  the  occasion  and  the  moment. 
"  She  is  a  morsel  for  a  king,"  they  said  on  all  sides  around 
her ;  and  the  young  woman  ended  by  believing  this  destiny 
as  mistress  of  the  king  to  be  the  star  of  her  life. 

Louis  XV.  was  then  in  the  first  glow  of  his  tardy  emanci- 


INTRODUCTION.  27 

pation,  and  the  nation,  not  knowing  for  a  long  time  where  to 
turn,  had  taken  to  loving  him  distractedly.  Mme.  d'Etioles 
did  the  same.  When  the  king  went  to  hunt  in  the  forest  of 
Se'nart,  not  far  from  Etioles,  she  appeared  before  him  as  if  by 
chance  in  a  pretty  carriage.  The  king  noticed  her  and  gal- 
lantly sent  her  some  game  ;  then,  in  the  evening,  a  valet  de 
chambre,  a  relative  of  the  family,  insinuated  to  the  master  all 
desired  details  and  offered  his  services  for  the  result.  All 
this,  as  a  beginning,  is  not  fine,  but  it  is  history. 

Louis  XV.,  endowed  with  so  fine  a  face  and  so  many 
apparent  graces,  showed  himself  from  his  youth  up  the 
weakest  and  most  timid  of  kings.  Sickly  in  his  childhood, 
the  young  king,  whose  life  seemed  to  hang  on  a  thread,  had 
been  raised  with  excessive  caution;  they  spared  him  all 
effort,  more  even  than  is  customary  with  princes.  Cardinal 
de  Fleury  directed  his  education  in  this  effeminate  manner ; 
the  old  man  of  nearly  eighty,  from  long  habit  and  wiliness, 
kept  his  royal  pupil  in  leading-strings ;  turning  him  aside 
from  all  that  resembled  ideas  or  enterprise  and  carefully 
uprooting  the  slightest  impulse  or  desire,  he  accustomed  him 
to  none  but  easy  things.  Nature,  moreover,  had  done  nothing 
to  help  the  royal  youth  to  rise  above  this  senile  and  effeminate 
education.  He  had  no  spark  of  anything  in  him  but  that 
which  soon  declared  itself  for  things  of  the  senses.  The 
young  courtiers,  the  ambitious  men  who  surrounded  him  saw 
with  vexation  the  continued  tutelage  of  the  cardinal  and  the 
perpetuation  of  the  king's  insipid  childhood  until  he  was 
more  than  thiity  years  of  age ;  they  perceived  that  there  was 
but  one  way  to  emancipate  him  and  make  him  master, 
namely:  to  give  him  a  mistress.  He  had  had  them  for 
years,  but  always  as  a  school-boy  and  under  the  good  pleas- 
ure of  the  cardinal ;  he  needed  one,  the  courtiers  thought,  who 
would  be  really  mistress  and  make  him  his  own  master. 


28  INTRODUCTION. 

Cardinal  de  Fleury  being  dead,  intrigues  were  more  rife 
than  ever ;  the  point  was,  inasmuch  as  the  king  was  so  de- 
void of  will,  to  know  what  hand  should  seize  the  tiller. 
Mme.  de  Tencin,  who  would  fain  have  pushed  her  brother, 
the  cardinal,  to  the  head  of  the  ministry,  knew  not  how  to 
lay  hold  of  the  apathetic  will  of  the  monarch.  She  wrote  to 
the  Due  de  Kichelieu,  who  was  then  at  the  war,  and  begged 
that  courtier  to  write  to  Mme.  de  Cha"teauroux  and  urge  her 
to  draw  the  king  from  the  lethargy  into  which  he  had  sunk 
in  relation  to  public  affairs. 

"  What  my  brother  has  said  to  him  as  to  this,"  she  adds, "  has 
been  useless ;  it  is,  as  he  wrote  you,  talking  to  stones.  I  can- 
not conceive  of  a  man  choosing  to  be  a  nonentity  when  he 
could  be  everything.  No  one  but  you  would  believe  the 
point  to  which  the  thing  has  gone.  What  happens  in  the 
kingdom  seems  not  to  concern  him ;  he  is  interested  in  noth- 
ing'; in  the  Council  he  is  absolutely  indifferent;  he  agrees 
to  whatever  is  presented  to  him.  In  truth,  there  is  enough 
to  make  one  desperate  in  having  to  do  with  such  a  man. 
One  sees  that  in  all  things  his  apathetic  nature  turns  him 
to  the  side  in  which  there  is  least  trouble,  though  it  may  be 
the  worst  side." 

Mme.  de  Tencin  and  her  brother,  the  cardinal,  both  so 
little  estimable,  judged  of  this  matter  as  persons  of  coup 
d'oeil  and  intelligence.  In  another  letter  she  suggests  the 
idea  that  it  might  be  useful  to  induce  the  king  to  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  his  armies.  "  Not  —  between  ourselves  — " 
she  added,  "  that  he  is  fit  to  command  a  company  of  Grena- 
diers, but  his  presence  will  do  much ;  the  people  love  their 
king  from  habit,  and  will  be  enchanted  to  see  him  take 
that  step,  to  which  he  could  be  prompted.  The  troops  will 
do  their  duty  better,  the  generals  will  not  dare  to  shirk  theirs 
as  openly  as  they  do  now."  This  idea  prevailed,  thanks  to 


INTRODUCTION.  29 

Mme.  de  CMteauroux,  who,  for  one  moment,  made  Louis  XV. 
the  phantom  of  a  hero  and  the  idol  of  the  nation.  Mme.  de 
Chateauroux,  then  his  mistress,  had  courage  and  spirit ;  she 
felt  the  generous  inspiration  and  conveyed  it.  She  tormented 
the  king,  who  seemed  to  regret  he  was  a  king,  by  speaking 
to  him  of  State  affairs,  of  his  interests,  his  glory.  "  You  kill 
me,"  he  said  to  her  constantly.  "  So  much  the  better,"  she 
replied,  "a  king  should  resuscitate."  She  did  resuscitate 
him,  and  succeeded  for  a  short  time  in  making  out  of  Louis 
XV.  a  prince  conscious  of  honour  who  was  not  recognizable. 
We  are  not  so  far  from  Mme.  de  Pompadour  as  we 
seem.  It  was  this  phantom  of  a  king  that  Mme.  d'Etioles 
watched  as  he  hunted  in  the  forest  of  Se*nart  and  began  to 
love.  She  dreamed  I  know  not  what  of  Henri  IV.  and 
Gabrielle.  Mme.  de  Cha'teauroux  having  died  suddenly,  she 
told  herself  it  was  she  who  could  replace  her.  An  intrigue 
was  at  once  set  a-foot  by  her  people.  The  details  are 
obscure,  and  gossip  is  not  history.  But,  with  that  absolute 
lack  of  initiative  that  characterized  Louis  XV.,  it  was 
necessary  to  do  for  Mme.  d'Etioles  what  had  already  been 
done  for  Mme.  de  Cha'teauroux,  namely :  arrange  the  affair 
for  him.  To  princes,  under  such  circumstances,  officious 
intermediaries  are  never  wanting.  Mme.  de  Tencin,  who 
had  seen  her  first  instrument,  Mme.  de  CMteauroux,  broken, 
concurred  in  replacing  her  by  Mme.  d'Etioles.  The  Due 
de  Eichelieu  on  the  contrary,  was  opposed  to  the  latter ;  he 
had  another  candidate  in  view,  a  great  lady ;  for  it  seemed 
as  though  to  be  mistress  of  the  king  the  first  condition  was 
to  be  a  woman  of  rank,  and  the  advent  of  Mme.  Lenormant 
d'Etioles,  Mile.  Poisson !  as  the  acknowledged  mistress  of 
royalty  made  a  total  revolution  in  the  manners  and  morals 
of  the  Court.  In  this  sense,  especially,  the  affair  was  thought 
scandalous,  and  the  great  shade  of  Louis  XIV.  was  invoked. 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

The  Maurepas  and  Kichelieus  revolted  at  the  thought  of  a 
bourgeoise,  a  "grisette,"  as  they  called  her,  usurping  the 
power  hitherto  reserved  to  daughters  of  noble  blood.  Maure- 
pas, satirical  above  all,  stayed  in  opposition,  consoling  himself 
with  making  songs  against  her  for  twenty  years ;  Eichelieu, 
courtier  above  all,  made  his  peace  and  was  reconciled. 

The  year  1745,  that  of  Fontenoy,  was  for  Mme.  d'Etioles 
one  of  triumph  and  great  metamorphoses.  Her  connection 
with  the  king  was  already  "  arranged,"  and  it  was  merely  a 
question  of  when  to  declare  it  publicly.  The  king  was  with 
the  army,  and  she  at  Etioles.  He  wrote  to  her  letter  after 
letter ;  Voltaire,  who  was  staying  at  her  house  and  whom  she 
had  induced  to  compose  a  comedy  for  the  Court  fete  on  the 
occasion  of  the  marriage  of  the  dauphin  with  the  Spanish 
infanta  lent  himself  to  this  play  of  Henri  IV.  and  Gabrielle, 
and  rhymed  madrigal  after  madrigal  about  it :  — 

"  He  can  love  and  he  can  fight ; 
He  sends  to  this  charming  spot 
Letters  worthy  of  Henri  IV. 
Signed  Louis,  Mars,  and  Love." 

The  Abb£  de  Bernis  was  then  at  feioles ;  he  was  said  to  be 
the  lover  of  Mme.  d'Etioles,  but  this  is  very  doubtful.  "  He 
knew,  shortly  before,  that  she  had  arranged  with  the  king." 
Those  are  Cardinal  de  Brienne's  words,  and  I  like  to  protect 
myself  with  such  grave  authority  in  so  delicate  a  matter. 
But  when  the  thing  had  been  settled  like  an  affair  of  State 
and  the  king  was  about  to  depart  for  the  army,  it  became 
a  question  of  forming  the  intimate  society  of  the  future 
marquise  during  his  absence,  and  the  Abb£  de  Bernis  was 
suggested.  He  was  faithful  to  his  mission ;  he  made  pretty 
verses  in  honour  of  this  royal  amour,  of  which  he  was  the 
confidant  and  almost  the  chaplain.  Faithful  to  the  tone  of 
the  day,  Bernis,  instead  of  seeing  anything  reprehensible  in 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

this  royal  amour,  paints  it  as  a  model  of  chastity  and  modesty 
worthy  in  all  things  of  the  age  of  gold.  The  amiable  abbe, 
who  sees  no  evil  but  that  of  inconstancy,  assures  us  there  will 
be  no  more  of  that :  — 

"  All  will  change ;  inconstant  crimes 
Are  thought  no  longer  exploits  ; 
The  Modest  soul  alone  obtains  our  praise ; 
And  constant  Love  recovers  all  its  rights  ; 
The  example  now  is  set  by  our  great  king, 
And  by  virtuous  beauty." 

Thus  the  young  Pompadour  enters  Versailles  with  the 
title  of  "  virtuous  beauty,"  whose  heart  is  enraptured  by  a 
faithful  hero. 

It  all  seems  strange  and  almost  ridiculous;  but  if  we 
study  the  new  marquise  we  shall  see  that  there  is  truth  in 
this  manner  of  looking  at  the  affair,  and  that  the  taste  of 
the  eighteenth  century  is  genuinely  in  it.  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour was  by  no  means  a  grisette,  as  her  enemies  affected  to 
say,  and  as  Voltaire  called  her  on  one  of  his  malicious  days. 
She  was  a  bourgeoise,  a  flower  of  finance,  the  prettiest  woman 
in  Paris,  witty,  elegant,  endowed  with  a  thousand  gifts,  a 
thousand  talents,  but  with  a  manner  of  feeling  which  had 
neither  the  grandeur  nor  the  hardness  of  aristocratic  ambi- 
tion. She  loved  the  king  for  himself,  as  the  handsomest 
man  of  his  kingdom,  as  the  one  who  seemed  to  her  the  most 
amiable ;  she  loved  him  sincerely,  sentimentally,  if  not  with 
profound  passion.  Her  ideal  would  have  been,  on  arriving 
at  Court,  to  charm  him,  to  amuse  him  by  entertainments 
taken  from  the  arts,  or  from  things  of  the  intellect,  to  make 
him  happy  and  keep  him  constant  in  a  circle  of  varied  en- 
chantments and  pleasures.  A  landscape  by  Watteau,  games, 
comedies,  pastorals  beneath  the  leafage,  a  continual  'em- 
barkation for  Cythera,  —  such  was  her  chosen  scene.  But, 


32  INTRODUCTION. 

once  transported  to  the  slippery  floor  of  the  Court,  she  could 
realize  her  ideal  but  very  imperfectly.  Kind  and  obliging 
by  nature,  she  had  to  arm  herself  against  enmities  and 
treachery,  and  take  the  offensive  to  save  herself  from  over- 
throw; she  was  led  by  necessity  to  politics  and  to  make 
herself  a  minister  of  State. 

Nevertheless,  from  the  first  (and  here  it  is  that  I  see  her 
faithful  to  her  origin),  she  brings  a  certain  something  of 
bourgeois  sentiments,  the  affections  and  tastes  of  private  life 
into  even  the  brilliant  scandals  of  her  royal  liaison.  The 
Memoirs  of  her  waiting-woman,  Mme.  du  Hausset,  inform 
us  on  this  subject  and  show  us  with  great  naive te*  of  state- 
ment the  true  and  habitual  sentiments  of  Mme.  de  Pom- 
padour. I  will  cite  an  example  that  will  show  what  I 
mean. 

Mme.  de  Pompadour  had,  by  her  husband,  a  daughter 
named  Alexandrine,  whom  she  educated  with  extreme  care 
and  destined  for  a  great  marriage.  The  king  had  by  Mme. 
de  Vintimille  (sister  of  Mme.  de  Chateauroux)  a  son  who 
was  the  picture  of  his  father.  Mme.  de  Pompadour  wished 
to  see  this  son  of  the  master,  and  found  means  to  bring  him 
to  Bellevue,  where  she  was  staying  with  her  daughter. 
Leading  the  king  into  a  conservatory  where  the  two  children 
were,  as  it  seemed,  by  chance,  she  said  to  him,  pointing  to 
the  pan-,  "  They  would  make  a  handsome  couple."  The  king 
was  chilling,  and  did  not  give  in  to  the  idea.  The  Bourbon 
blood  within  him  resisted  the  charm  of  such  an  alliance 
thus  proposed.  But  she,  without  fully  understanding  his 
coldness,  said  to  Mme.  du  Hausset  as  she  thought  it  over :  — 

"  If  he  were  Louis  XIV.  he  would  make  that  child  a  Due 
du  Maine ;  but  I  don't  ask  as  much  as  that :  an  office  and 
patent  of  duke  for  his  son  is  very  little ;  it  is  because  the 
boy  is  his  son,  my  dear,  that  I  prefer  him  to  the  little  dukes 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

at  Court.  My  grandchildren  would  share  in  a  resemblance 
to  their  grandfather  and  their  grandmother,  and  this  mix- 
ture, which  I  hope  to  see,  will  some  day  make  my  happiness. 
The  tears  came  into  her  eyes  in  saying  these  words,"  adds 
the  honest  waiting-maid. 

We  perceive,  it  seems  to  me,  the  bourgeois  vein,  perverted 
yet  persistent,  in  this  hope  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour;  she 
brings  ideas  of  affection,  and  family  arrangement  into  even 
her  adulterous  connection.  She  has  feelings ;  she  thinks  in 
advance  as  a  grandmother,  is  moved  by  that  thought.  It 
was  this  side  of  her  which  so  shocked  the  courtiers,  and 
made  them  call  her  a  grisette ;  it  was  caused  by  a  good 
quality  out  of  place  in  those  high  regions.  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour represents  on  still  other  sides  the  middle-class  at  Court, 
and  foretells  in  a  way  its  advent,  —  an  advent  very  irregular, 
but  very  significant,  and  very  real. 

She  loved  the  arts  and  the  things  of  the  intellect  as  not 
one  mistress  of  high  rank  had  ever  done.  Beaching  this 
eminent  and  little  honourable  position  (much  less  honour- 
able than  she  thought  it),  she  at  first  considered  herself  as 
destined  to  aid,  to  call  around  her,  and  to  encourage,  suffer- 
ing merit  and  men  of  talent  of  all  kinds.  Her  only  fame  is 
there,  —  her  best  claim,  as  it  is  her  excuse.  She  did  every- 
thing to  advance  Voltaire  and  to  make  him  acceptable  to 
Louis  XV.,  whom  the  petulant  poet  repelled  so  strongly  by 
the  vivacity  and  the  familiarity  of  his  laudation.  She 
thought  she  found  genius  in  Cre*billon,  and  she  honoured 
it.  She  favoured  Gresset,  she  protected  Marmontel,  she 
welcomed  Duclos,  she  admired  Montesquieu  and  openly 
showed  it  to  him.  She  would  gladly  have  obliged  Jean- 
Jacques  Eousseau.  When  the  King  of  Prussia  bestowed 
ostentatiously  on  d'Alembert  a  moderate  pension  she  ad- 
vised Louis  XV.  —  who  was  laughing  before  her  at  the  sum 

VOL.    I.  —  3 


34  INTRODUCTION. 

bestowed  (1200  francs),  compared  with  the  term  "  sublime 
genius,"  in  the  letter  bestowing  it  —  she  advised  him  to 
forbid  the  philosopher  to  accept  it,  and  to  grant  him  the 
double;  which  Louis  XY.  dared  not  do,  from  motives  of 
piety,  because  of  the  Encyclopaedia.  It  was  not  her  fault 
that  we  cannot  say  "  the  age  of  Louis  XY.,"  as  we  say  "  the 
age  of  Louis  XIY."  She  would  fain  have  made  of  this  king 
so  little  affable,  so  little  giving,  a  friend  of  the  Arts,  of 
Letters,  and  as  liberal  as  a  Yalois.  "  What  was  Francois  I. 
like  ? "  she  one  day  asked  the  Comte  de  Saint-Germain  who 
claimed  to  have  lived  many  centuries.  "  There 's  a  king  I 
should  have  loved !  "  But  Louis  XY.  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  the  idea  of  considering  men  of  letters  and  intellect  as 
of  any  account,  or  to  admitting  them  on  any  footing  at 
Court. 

"  It  is  not  the  fashion  in  France,"  said  this  routine  monarch 
one  day,  when  they  were  quoting  the  example  of  Frederick 
the  Great  before  him;  "besides,  as  there  are  more  men  of 
letters  and  more  great  seigneurs  here  than  there  are  in 
Prussia,  I  should  need  a  very  large  dinner-table  to  invite 
them  all."  Then  he  counted  on  his  fingers :  "  Maupertuis, 
Fontenelle,  La  Motte,  Yoltaire,  Piron,  Destouches,  Montes- 
quieu—  "  "  Your  Majesty  forgets,"  said  some  one,  "  d'Alem- 
bert  and  Clairaut  —  "  "  And  Cre*billon,"  he  said,  «  and  La 
Chausse'e  —  "  "  And  Crdbillon  junior,"  said  another ;  "  he  is 
more  amiable  than  his  father ;  and  there 's  the  Abbs'  PreVost? 
the  Abbd  d'Olivet  —  "  "  Well !  "  said  the  king,  «  for  twenty- 
five  years  all  that  would  have  dined  and  supped  with  me ! " 

Ah !  all  that  would  indeed  have  been  much  out  of  place 
at  Versailles;  but  Mme.  de  Pompadour  would  have  liked 
to  see  them  there,  nevertheless,  and  to  have  brought  about 
some  connection  of  opinion  between  the  monarch  and  the 
men  who  were  the  honour  of  his  reign.  In  point  of  fact, 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

she  was  the  most  amiable  and  the  prettiest  of  philosophers 
and  by  no  means  the  most  inconsequent,  who,  having  a  place 
at  Court,  would  have  liked  to  introduce  there  some  of 
her  own  kind.  "  Have  you  regretted  Mme.  de  Pompadour  ? " 
wrote  Voltaire  to  d'Alembert  on  hearing  of  her  death. 
"  Yes,  no  doubt ;  for  in  the  depths  of  her  heart  she  was  one 
of  us ;  she  protected  Letters  as  much  as  she  could ;  there 's 
a  fine  dream  ended ! " 

When,  to  amuse  the  king,  she  plays  comedies  in  the 
private  apartments  Montesquieu  has  an  air  of  laughing  at 
her  in  a  letter  he  writes  to  a  friend  (November,  1749) :  "  I 
have  nothing  more  to  tell  you,  unless  it  is  that  the  operas 
and  comedies  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour  are  about  to  begin, 
and  therefore  that  the  Due  de  la  Valliere  will  be  one  of  the 
first  men  of  the  age ;  and  as  nothing  is  talked  of  but  balls 
and  comedies,  Voltaire  enjoys  a  particular  favour."  But, 
among  those  ballets  and  operas  at  which  Montesquieu 
sneered,  they  were  also  playing  "  Tartuffe ; "  and  they  played 
it  within  a  few  feet  of  the  Court  of  the  devout  dauphin,  and 
those  courtiers  who  had  neither  place  nor  part  in  it  were 
inconsolable. 

In  the  entresol  of  the  marquise  at  Versailles  lived  Dr. 
Quesnay,  her  physician,  the  patron  and  founder  of  the  sect  of 
the  Economists.  He  was  an  original ;  a  brusque,  honest  man, 
remaining  sincere  at  a  Court ;  serious  with  his  "  apish  face," 
ever  ready  with  ingenious  apologues  through  which  to  make 
truth  speak.  While  the  king  was  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour, 
Bernis,  Choiseul,  and  the  other  ministers  who  governed  with 
her,  the  Encyclopaedists  and  the  Economists  were  talking 
freely  of  all  things  in  the  entresol  below,  and  settling  the 
future.  It  seems  as  if  the  marquise  had  some  consciousness 
of  the  storms  that  were  gathering  above  her  head  when  she 
said,  "After  me,  the  deluge!"  It  was  that  very  entresol, 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

full  of  ideas  and  theories,  which  inclosed  within  it  those 
cataracts  of  heaven  which  were  sooner  or  later  to  break 
loose.  There  were  days  when  around  its  table,  dining 
together,  could  be  seen  Diderot,  d'Alembert,  Duclos,  Hel- 
vetius,  Turgot,  Buffon,  —  all  that,  as  Louis  XV.  said ;  "  and 
Mme.  de  Pompadour,"  relates  Marmontel,  "  unable  to  invite 
that  troop  of  philosophers  to  her  salon,  would  come  down 
herself  to  see  them  at  table  and  talk  with  them." 

The  privacy  of  letters  was  very  little  observed  in  those 
days;  the  director  of  the  Post-office  came  regularly  every 
week  to  bring  to  the  king  and  Mine,  de  Pompadour  extracts 
from  the  correspondence  entrusted  to  him.  When  Dr.  Ques- 
nay  saw  him  pass  he  flew  into  a  fury  against  "that  in- 
famous -minister,"  as  he  called  him,  to  such  a  degree  that 
he  foamed  at  the  mouth.  "  I  would  no  more  dine  with 
that  director  of  the  Posts,"  he  said,  "  than  with  the  public 
executioner."  Such  remarks  as  these  were  made  in  the 
apartments  of  the  king's  mistress,  and  without  danger,  and 
for  a  period  of  twenty  years.  M.  de  Marigny,  brother  of 
Mme.  de  Pompadour,  a  man  of  merit  and  worthy  of  his 
sister  on  more  than  one  good  side,  contented  himself  by 
saying,  "  It  is  integrity  exhaling  itself,  not  malevolence." 

One  day,  this  same  M.  de  Marigny,  being  in  Dr.  Quesnay's 
lodging,  they  began  to  talk  of  M.  de  Choiseul.  "He  is 
nothing  but  a  dandy,"  said  the  doctor,  "  cut  out,  if  he  were 
a  little  handsomer,  for  a  favourite  of  Henri  III."  The 
Marquis  de  Mirabeau  (father  of  the  great  tribune)  entered, 
and  with  him  M.  de  la  Riviere.  "  This  kingdom,"  said  Mira- 
beau, "  is  in  a  very  bad  state ;  there  are  no  energizing  senti- 
ments, and  no  money  to  take  their  place."  "The  country 
cannot  be  regenerated,"  said  La  Riviere,  "  except  by  a  con- 
quest like  that  of  China  or  by  some  great  internal  upheaval ; 
but  sorrow  to  those  who  will  then  be  in  it;  the  Trench 


INTRODUCTION.  37 

people  strike  hard."  "  These  words  made  me  tremble,"  says 
the  good  Mme.  Hausset,  from  whom  we  are  quoting, "  and 
I  hastened  to  leave  the  room.  M.  de  Marigny  did  the  same, 
without  seeming  to  be  affected  by  what  was  said." 

Connect  these  prophetic  words  with  those  that  escaped 
from  Louis  XV.  himself  on  the  subject  of  the  resistance  of 
parliament :  "  Things  as  they  are  will  last  my  time  "  —  that 
was  his  end  of  the  world. 

Did  Mme.  de  Pompadour  contribute  as  much  as  people 
have  said  to  the  rum  of  the  monarchy  ?  She  did  not  hinder 
it,  certainly.  Nevertheless,  given  the  character  of  Louis 
XV.,  it  may  have  been  the  best  thing  that  could  have 
happened  to  that  king  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  woman 
"  born  sincere,  who  loved  him  for  himself,  and  who  had 
rectitude  in  her  mind  and  justice  in  her  heart,  which  is  not 
to  be  met  with  daily."  That  is  Voltaire's  opinion  when 
judging  Mme.  de  Pompadour  after  her  death.  Admit  the 
class,  and  there  was  good  in  her. 

Louis  XV.,  so  despicable  in  character,  was  not  a  man 
without  intelligence,  nor  without  good  sense.  Many  apt 
sayings,  piquant  and  sufficiently  shrewd  repartees  are  quoted 
of  him,  such  as  come  readily  from  the  princes  of  the  house  of 
Bourbon.  He  seems  to  have  had  some  judgment,  if  that 
word  is  not  too  lofty  to  connect  with  the  species  of  immo- 
bility and  sloth  in  which  he  liked  to  keep  his  mind ;  but  his 
greatest  need  of  all  was  to  be  governed.  He  was  a  Louis 
XIII.  turned  into  the  eighteenth  century,  with  the  vices  of 
his  time,  as  base,  as  feeble,  and  much  less  chaste  than  his 
ancestor,  and  without  his  Kichelieu.  He  could  only  have 
found  the  latter  in  a  beautiful  woman,  and  the  finding  of 
the  genius  of  a  Eichelieu  in  the  body  of  a  Pompadour  is 
not,  perhaps,  within  the  order  of  human  possibilities.  Never- 
theless, Mme.  de  Pompadour  comprehended  after  a  time 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

that  the  mistress  in  her  was  worn-out,  that  she  could  no 
longer  retain  or  divert  the  king  by  that  power  alone ;  she 
felt  that  there  was  but  one  sure  means  of  maintaining  her- 
self, namely,  to  be  the  necessary  friend  and  minister,  the 
one  to  relieve  the  king  of  the  trouble  of  willing  in  matters 
of  State.  She  therefore  became  very  nearly  what  he  needed 
her  to  be ;  but  in  doing  so,  she  forced  her  own  nature,  which 
was  more  fitted  for  the  government  of  little  cabinets  and 
dainty  pleasures.  Here  mythology  ceases,  and  history  be- 
gins —  a  far  from  noble  history  !  When  she  had  made  the 
king  dismiss  the  Comte  d'Argenson  and  M.  de  Machault  she 
governed  conjointly  with  the  Abbd  de  Bernis  and  M.  de 
Choiseul.  It  was  then  that  the  world  saw  the  political 
system  of  Europe  overthrown,  the  ancient  alliances  of  France 
interverted,  and  a  whole  series  of  great  events  undertaken  at 
the  mercy  of  the  inclinations,  the  antipathies,  and  the  too 
fragile,  too  personal  good  sense  of  an  amiable  woman. 

Then  was  seen  a  most  singular  spectacle :  that  of  an 
heroic  and  cynical  King  of  Prussia  contending  with  three 
women,  three  sovereigns,  rancorous  for  his  ruin,  whom  he 
characterized,  each  and  all,  energetically,  —  the  Empress 
Elizabeth  of  Eussia,  the  Empress  Maria-Theresa,  and  Mme. 
de  Pompadour,  —  behaving  to  them  all  as  a  man  not  ac- 
customed to  love  the  sex,  or  to  fear  it.  On  the  other  side 
was  Louis  XV.,  saying  naively  of  this  king,  whose  ally  he 
did  not  know  how  to  be,  and  of  whom  he  was  so  often  the 
beaten  and  humiliated  enemy :  "  He  is  a  madman  who  risks 
his  all  to  win  or  lose ;  he  may  win,  though  he  has  neither 
religion,  morals,  nor  principles."  It  is  amusing  to  find 
Louis  XV.  believing  that  he  himself  had  more  morals  and 
principles  than  Frederick. 

Beaten  without,  for  lack  of  a  hero,  in  her  duel  with 
Frederick,  Mme.  de  Pompadour  was  more  fortunate  within 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

the  kingdom,  in  her  war  to  the  death  against  the  Jesuits. 
She  offered  to  make  peace  with  them  at  a  certain  moment ; 
they  refused  her  advances,  contrary  to  their  custom.  She 
was  a  woman,  a  clever  woman,  and  mistress  of  the  ground  ; 
she  revenged  herself.  This  time  she  did  all  the  harm  it  was 
possible  to  do  to  those  who  had  tried  to  harm  her.  Eecent 
publications  have  thrown  a  vivid  light  on  this  interesting 
point.1 

Thus  we  find  in  the  career  and  influence  of  Mme.  de 
Pompadour  two  distant  epochs  :  the  first,  the  most  brilliant 
and  favoured,  began  on  the  morrow  of  the  peace  of  Aix-la- 
Chapelle  (1748)  :  then  she  was  completely  in  her  role  of 
mistress,  young,  in  love  with  peace,  with  the  arts,  with  the 
pleasures  of  the  mind,  counselling  and  protecting  all  delight- 
ful things.  The  second  epoch  is  chequered,  more  often 
disastrous  and  fatal ;  this  was  the  whole  period  of  the  Seven 
Years'  War,  the  period  of  Damiens'  attempt,  of  the  defeat  at 
Kosbach,  and  the  victorious  insults  of  Frederick.  Those 
were  harsh  years,  which  aged  before  her  time  this  frail  and 
graceful  woman,  dragged  into  a  struggle  too  severe  for  her. 
To  judge  of  the  precise  degree  of  errors  committed  by  each 
and  all  at  this  date,  we  must  turn  to  the  diplomatic  papers 
relating  to  the  ministry  of  Cardinal  de  Bernis  and  that  of 
the  Due  de  ChoiseuL  My  impression  is,  from  a  simple  view 
of  them,  that  things  might  have  gone  to  worse,  and  that 
Mme.  de  Pompadour,  aided  by  M.  de  Choiseul,  did,  by 
means  of  the  "Family  Compact"  cover  with  a  certain 
prestige  her  own  errors  and  the  humiliation  of  the  monarchy 
and  France. 

It  would  seem  as  though  the  nation  itself  felt  this,  felt 

1  See  "  History  of  the  Fall  of  the  Jesuits  in  the  eighteenth  century,  by 
Comte  Alexis  Saint-Priest ;  also  Pere  Theiner's  "  History  of  the  Pontifi- 
cate of  Clement  XIV." 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

above  all  that  after  this  brilliant  favourite  was  gone  the 
monarchy  was  fated  to  fall  low  indeed ;  for  when  she  died 
at  Versailles  (April  15,  1764),  the  regret  of  the  population 
of  Paris,  who  would  have  stoned  her  a  few  years  earlier, 
was  universal.  Mme.  de  La  Tour-Franqueville,  a  witness 
not  to  be  suspected,  writes  to  Jean-Jacques  Eousseau 
(May  6):  — 

"The  weather  has  been  so  frightful  here  of  late  that 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  must  have  had  less  regret  in  quitting 
life.  She  proved  in  her  last  moments  that  her  soul  was  a 
composition  of  strength  and  weakness,  —  a  mixture  which,  in 
a  woman,  is  never  surprising.  Nor  am  I  surprised  to  see 
her  as  generally  regretted  as  she  once  was  generally  de- 
spised or  hated.  Frenchmen  are  the  first  men  in  the  world 
for  everything;  it  is  quite  natural  they  should  be  so  for 
inconsistency." 

One  of  those  who  seemed  to  regret  her  the  least  was 
Louis  XV. ;  it  is  told  that  seeing  from  a  window  the  coffin 
as  it  was  being  transported  in  the  rain  from  the  chateau  of 
Versailles  to  Paris,  he  merely  remarked,  "The  marquise 
will  not  have  fine  weather  for  her  trip."  His  forefather 
Louis  XIII.  was  heard  to  say  at  the  hour  of  the  execution 
of  his  favourite  Cinq-Mars,  "Dear  friend  must  be  mak- 
ing an  ugly  face  just  now."  Beside  this  saying  of  Louis 
XIIL,  that  of  Louis  XV.  seems  touching  in  its  sensibility. 

The  arts  felt  grievously  the  loss  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour, 
and  have  consecrated  her  memory ;  if  Voltaire,  writing  of 
her  death  to  friends,  could  say,  "  She  was  one  of  us,"  with 
much  more  reason  had  artists  the  right  to  say  so.  Mme.  de 
Pompadour  was  herself  a  distinguished  artist.  Directly, 
and  through  her  brother,  M.  de  Marigny,  whom  she  had 
caused  to  be  appointed  Superintendent  of  buildings,  she 
exercised  the  most  active  and  fortunate  influence.  At  no 


INTRODUCTION.  41 

period  was  art  more  living,  more  in  touch  with  social  life, 
which  expressed  and  modelled  itself  through  and  by  it  on 
all  sides.  Eendering  an  account  of  the  Salon  of  1765, 
Diderot  dwells  first  on  an  allegorical  picture  in  which  Carl 
Van  Loo  represents  the  arts,  disconsolate  and  supplicating, 
imploring  Destiny  for  the  recovery  of  the  marquise.  "  She 
protected  them  indeed,"  writes  the  critic :  "  she  loved  Carl 
Van  Loo ;  she  was  Cochin's  benefactress  ;  the  engraver  Gai 
had  his  wheel  in  her  house;  fortunate  indeed  would  the 
nation  have  been  had  she  confined  herself  to  diverting  the 
sovereign  by  amusements  and  by  ordering  from  artists  their 
pictures  and  statues."  And  then,  after  describing  the  picture, 
he  adds,  rather  rudely,  methinks :  — 

"The  suppliants  of  Van  Loo  obtained  nothing  from  Des- 
tiny more  favourable  to  France  than  to  the  arts.  Mme.  de 
Pompadour  died  at  the  moment  when  they  thought  her  out 
of  danger.  Well  I  what  remains  of  that  woman  who  has 
exhausted  us  in  men  and  money,  left  us  without  honour  and 
without  energy,  and  has  overthrown  the  political  system  of 
Europe  ?  —  the  Treaty  of  Versailles  which  will  last  as  long  as 
it  may ;  the  Cupid  of  Bourchardon,  which  the  world  will  for- 
ever admire ;  a  few  engravings  by  Gai  which  will  astonish 
future  antiquaries ;  a  good  little  picture  by  Van  Loo  which 
people  will  look  at  sometimes ;  and  a  handful  of  ashes ! " 

There  remain  other  things ;  and  posterity,  or  at  least  the 
amateurs  who  to-day  represent  it,  seem  to  grant  to  the  influ- 
ence of  Mme.  de  Pompadour  and  to  rank  under  her  name 
more  objects  worthy  of  attention  than  Diderot  enumerates. 
I  shall  rapidly  point  out  a  few  of  them : — 

Mme.  de  Pompadour  had  a  fine  library ;  very  rich  espe- 
cially in  works  for  the  stage  ;  a  library  consisting  chiefly  of 
French  books,  that  is  to  say,  books  which  she  read,  most  of 
them  bound  with  her  arms  (three  towers),  and  some- 


42  INTRODUCTION. 

times  with  broad  laces  covering  the  sides.  These  volumes 
are  still  sought  for,  and  bibliophiles  give  her  a  place  of 
honour  in  their  golden  book  beside  the  most  illustrious  con- 
noisseurs whose  names  have  come  down  to  us.  She  pushed 
her  love  of  the  art  so  far  as  to  print  with  her  own  hands  at 
Versailles  a  tragedy  by  Corneille  "Kodogune"  (1760)  ;  only 
twenty  copies  of  which  were  struck  off.  It  may  be  said  that 
these  were  only  passing  fancies,  but  they  prove  the  taste  and 
the  passion  for  Letters  in  the  woman  who  "  would  have  loved 
Francois  I." 

There  exists  in  the  "Cabinet  d'Estampes"  a  Collection 
entitled  "  QEuvre  de  Mme.  de  Pompadour,"  consisting  of 
more  than  sixty  engravings  or  etchings.  They  are  chiefly 
allegorical  subjects,  intended  to  celebrate  the  memorable 
events  of  the  day,  but  there  are  some  which  enter  more  into 
the  idea  we  form  of  the  charming  artist :  "  Love  cultivating 
a  myrtle,"  "  Love  cultivating  laurels."  The  Loves  are  there 
in  every  form,  and  even  "  Military  Genius  "  itself  is  represent- 
ed as  Cupid  meditating  before  cannon  and  flags.  Not  con- 
tent with  reproducing  thus  by  etchings  on  copper  the  engrav- 
ings on  fine  stones  by  Gai,  Mme.  de  Pompadour  seems  to 
have  used  the  lathe  herself  on  fine  stones  (agate  or  cornelian). 
Her  etchings  were  retouched  with  a  graving-tool.  In  short, 
even  in  printing,  she  put,  in  many  ways,  her  hand,  her  pretty 
hand,  to  work ;  she  is  of  the  trade,  and  just  as  the  bibliophiles 
inscribe  her  on  their  list  and  the  typographers  on  theirs,  the 
engravers  have  a  right  to  count  in  their  ranks,  with  the  title 
of  associate,  "  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  etcher." 

The  manufactory  of  Sevres  owes  much  to  her ;  she  protected 
it  actively :  there  she  often  took  the  king,  who,  for  once  in  a 
way,  felt  the  importance  of  an  art  to  which  he  owed  his  mag- 
nificent dinner-services,  worthy  of  being  offered  as  gifts  to 
sovereigns.  Under  the  near  influence  of  Versailles,  Sevres 


INTRODUCTION.  43 

soon  had  original  marvels  to  rival  those  of  Old  Dresden  and 
Japan.  Nowhere  does  the  style  called  "  Pompadour  "  shine 
with  more  delicacy  and  fancy,  or  better  in  its  place,  than  in 
the  porcelain  services  of  that  date.  This  glory,  due  to  a 
fragile  art,  is  more  durable  than  many  others. 

While  M.  de  Marigny,  her  brother,  summoned  Soufflot 
from  Lyons  to  put  him  in  charge  of  the  construction  of 
Sainte-Genevieve  (the  Pantheon),  she  interested  herself 
eagerly,  and  contributed  her  share  to  the  establishment  of 
the  Ecole  Militaire.  Among  the  very  small  number  of 
authentic  letters  which  we  have  of  her,  there  are  two  which 
give  very  valuable  details  on  this  subject.  In  one,  addressed 
to  a  friend,  the  Comtesse  de  Lutzelbourg,  she  says  (January 
3,  1751):— 

"  I  believe  you  have  been  very  glad  of  the  decree  the 
king  has  just  issued  ennobling  the  military ;  but  you  will 
be  still  better  pleased  with  one  that  is  about  to  appear  for  an 
Establishment  for  five  hundred  young  gentlemen  whom  the 
king  is  to  educate  in  military  art.  This  Eoyal  school  is  to 
be  built  near  the  Invalides ;  it  will  be  all  the  finer  because 
his  Majesty  has  worked  at  it  himself  for  the  past  year,  and 
the  ministers  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  it  and  did  not 
know  of  it  until  he  had  arranged  everything  to  his  liking ; 
which  was  done  at  the  end  of  the  last  trip  to  Fontainebleau. 
I  will  send  you  the  edict  as  soon  as  printed." 

If  the  king  worked  at  this  himself  and  the  ministers  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  we  may  be  sure  that  he  owed  its 
inspiration  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  for  he  was  not  a  man 
to  have  ideas  of  that  kind  in  his  own  head.  Another  and 
very  familiar  letter  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  addressed  to 
Pelris-Duvemey,  who  had  suggested  to  her  the  first  idea 
of  the  ficole  Militaire,  shows  her  to  us  pursuing  that  noble 
project  with  solicitude:  — 


44  INTBODUCTION. 

August  15,  1755. 

"  No,  assuredly,  my  dear  ninny  [nigaud'}  I  shall  not  allow 
to  be  wrecked  in  port  an  Establishment  which  ought  to 
immortalize  the  king,  render  the  nobles  happy,  and  make 
known  to  posterity  my  attachment  to  the  State  and  to  the 
person  of  his  Majesty.  I  told  Gabrielle  to-day  to  arrange 
to  give  Grenelle  the  necessary  workmen  to  finish  the  work. 
My  income  for  this  year  has  not  yet  been  paid  to  me;  I 
shall  use  it  all  in  paying  the  workmen  fortnightly.  I  don't 
know  if  I  can  get  any  security  for  repayment,  but  I  know 
very  well  that  I  shall  risk,  with  great  satisfaction,  one 
hundred  thousand  francs  for  the  welfare  of  those  poor  lads. 
Good-night,  dear  ninny,"  etc. 

If  the  tone  seems  a  little  bourgeois,  the  act  was  regal. 

All  the  masters  of  the  French  school  of  that  day  painted 
Mme.  de  Pompadour ;  we  have  Boucher's  portrait,  also  that 
of  Drouais,  which  Grimm  preferred  to  all;1  but  the  most 
admirable  is  certainly  the  pastel  of  Latour,  in  the  Louvre. 
It  is  there  that  we  must  see  the  marquise  before  we  permit 
ourselves  to  judge  of  her  and  form  any  idea  of  her  person. 

She  is  represented  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  holding  in  her 
hand  a  sheet  of  music;  the  left  arm  rests  upon  a  marble 
table  on  which  is  a  globe  and  several  books.  The  thickest 
of  these  volumes,  which  touches  the  globe,  is  volume  four 
of  the  "  Encyclopaedia ;  "  beside  it  lies  the  "  Esprit  des  Lois," 
the  "  Henriade,"  and  the  "  Pasteur  Fido,"  bearing  testimony 
to  the  tastes  both  serious  and  tender  of  the  queen  of  this 
place.  On  the  table,  at  the  foot  of  the  globe,  is  a  blue 
volume  turned  face  down,  inscribed  on  its  back  "Pierres 
gravies;"  this  is  her  work.  One  engraving  is  loose  and 

i  See  this  portrait  in  the  Memoirs  of  the  Marquis  d'Argenson,  in  this 
Historical  series.  —  Ts> 


INTRODUCTION.  45 

hangs  down;  it  represents  an  engraver  at  work  and  bears 
the  words,  "Pompadour  sculpsit."  On  the  ground  at  the 
foot  of  the  table  is  a  box  full  of  engravings  and  designs, 
marked  with  her  arms ;  it  is  fairly  a  trophy.  Farther  back, 
between  the  feet  of  the  console  stands  a  Japanese  vase  (why 
not  a  Sevres  vase  ?) ;  behind  her  chair  is  another  chair  or 
an  ottoman  with  a  guitar.  But  it  is  the  person  herself  who 
is  at  all  points  marvellous  in  elegance,  sweet  dignity,  and 
exquisite  beauty.  Holding  the  sheet  of  music  lightly  and 
negligently,  her  attention  is  suddenly  attracted ;  she  seems 
to  hear  a  sound  and  turns  her  head.  Is  it  the  king  who 
comes  and  is  about  to  enter  ?  She  has  an  air  of  expecting 
with  certainty,  and  she  listens  with  a  smile.  Her  head 
thus  turned  shows  the  outline  of  her  neck  in  all  its  grace 
and  her  hair,  very  short  and  deliciously  waved,  the  curls  of 
which  are  in  tiers,  their  blond  tints  just  visible  through 
a  semi-powdering  that  scarcely  covers  them.  The  head 
floats  in  a  light-blue  atmosphere  which  is,  in  general,  that 
of  the  whole  picture.  The  eye  is  everywhere  satisfied  and 
caressed.  An  azure  light  descends  and  glides  over  all  the 
objects.  There  is  nothing  in  this  fairy  boudoir  that  does 
not  seem  to  pay  court  to  the  goddess,  nothing,  not  even  the 
"  Esprit  des  Lois  "  and  the  "  Encyclopaedia."  The  flowered 
satin  gown  gives  place  at  the  slope  of  the  bosom  to  several 
tiers  of  those  ribbon  knots  which  were  called,  I  think, 
"  dchelle  de  rubans,"  and  which  are  here  of  a  very  pale  lilac. 
She  herself  has  the  flesh  and  tints  of  a  white  lilac,  slightly 
azured.  This  bosom,  these  ribbons,  that  gown,  the  whole  en- 
semble blends  harmoniously,  or  rather,  amorously.  Beauty 
shines  in  all  its  glow  in  the  opened  flower.  The  face  is 
still  young ;  the  temples  have  kept  their  youth  and  fresh- 
ness ;  the  lips  are  equally  fresh  and  have  not  yet  withered, 
as  it  is  said  they  did  from  being  too  often  bitten  and  con- 


46  INTRODUCTION. 

tracted  when  forced  to  swallow  anger  or  affronts.  Every- 
thing in  the  face,  the  attitude,  expresses  grace,  taste  supreme, 
affability  and  amenity  rather  than  gentleness,  with  the  air 
of  a  queen,  which  she  needs  must  take,  but  which,  after 
all,  is  natural  to  her  and  is  sustained  without  much  effort. 
I  might  continue  and  describe  still  more  of  the  pretty  de- 
tails, but  I  prefer  to  stop  and  send  spectators  to  the  picture 
itself ;  they  will  there  find  many  things  I  have  not  ventured 
to  touch. 

Such,  in  her  heyday,  was  this  ravishing,  ambitious,  frail 
woman,  who  was,  nevertheless,  sincere,  who  remained  kind 
in  her  eminence,  faithful  (I  like  to  think  this)  in  her  fault, 
serviceable  when  she  could  be,  vindictive,  nevertheless,  when 
pushed  to  it ;  who  was,  after  all,  truly  of  her  sex,  and  whom 
her  waiting-maid  has  shown  to  us  in  privacy  without  being 
too  burdensome  and  overwh3lming  a  witness.  Mme.  du 
Hausset's  book  leaves  a  singular  impression;  it  is  written 
with  a  sort  of  naivete*  and  ingenuousness  which  is  honestly 
preserved  in  the  midst  of  vice :  " '  This  is  what  the-  Court  is, 
corrupt  from  top  to  bottom,'  I  said  one  day  to  Madame,  who 
was  talking  to  me  of  certain  facts  within  my  knowledge.  '  I 
could  tell  you  many  others/  she  answered ;  '  but  that  little 
side-room  in  which  you  sit  must  often  teach  you  much.' " 

Mme.  de  Pompadour,  after  the  first  glamour  of  fairy-land 
was  over,  judged  her  situation  for  what  it  was,  and,  while 
continuing  to  love  the  king,  she  kept  no  illusion  as  to  his 
nature,  nor  as  to  the  species  of  affection  of  which  she  was 
the  object.  She  felt  she  was  nothing  to  him  but  a  habit, 
and  absolutely  nothing  else.  "  It  is  your  staircase  the  king 
loves,"  the  little  Mare*chale  de  Mirepoix  said  to  her ;  "  he  is 
accustomed  to  go  up  and  down  it ;  but  if  he  found  another 
woman  who  could  talk  to  him  of  his  hunting  and  his  busi- 
ness it  would  be  all  the  same  to  him  at  the  end  of  three 


INTRODUCTION.  47 

days."  Mme.  de  Pompadour  represented  to  herself  those 
words  as  the  strict  and  sad  truth.  She  had  everything  to 
fear  at  every  moment,  for  with  such  a  man  all  was  possible  ; 
a  smile,  or  a  more  or  less  gracious  look  from  him  proved 
nothing.  "  You  do  not  know  him,  my  dear,"  she  said  one 
day  to  Mme.  du  Hausset,  with  whom  she  was  talking  of 
some  rival  who  was  trying  to  supplant  her ;  "  if  he  meant  to 
put  her  in  my  place  this  very  evening,  he  would  treat  her 
coldly  before  every  one,  and  me  with  the  greatest  affection." 
He  acquired  this  slyness  from  his  early  education  under 
Cardinal  de  Fleury.  Finally  she  cries  out  from  a  secret 
sense  of  her  misery,  and  with  an  expression  which  cannot 
fail  to  surprise  us :  "  Ah !  my  life  is  like  that  of  the 
Christian — a  perpetual  strife.  It  was  not  so  with  those 
who  won  the  good  graces  of  Louis  XIV." 

But,  in  spite  of  all,  she  was  the  mistress  who  was  fitted 
for  this  reign,  the  only  one  who  could  have  succeeded  in 
making  something  of  it  in  the  line  of  opinion,  the  only  one 
who  could  have  diminished  the  crying  discord  between  the 
least  literary  of  kings  and  the  most  literary  of  epochs.  If 
the  Abbe*  Galiani,  in  a  curious  page,  loudly  asserting  his 
preference  for  the  period  of  Louis  XV.  over  that  of  Louis 
XIV.,  could  say  of  this  age  of  the  human  mind  so  fruitful 
in  results,  "No  such  reign  will  again  be  met  with  for  a 
very  long  time,"  Mme.  de  Pompadour  certainly  contributed 
much  to  it.  That  graceful  woman  rejuvenated  the  Court; 
bringing  to  it  the  liveliness  of  her  very  French  tastes,  her 
Parisian  tastes.  As  mistress  and  friend  of  the  king,  as 
protectress  of  the  arts,  her  spirit  was  always  fully  on  the 
level  of  her  role  and  rank;  as  a  politician  she  failed,  she 
did  harm,  but  not  more  harm  perhaps  than  any  other 
favourite  in  her  place  would  have  done  at  that  epoch,  when 
what  we  lacked  in  France  was  a  real  statesman. 


48  INTRODUCTION. 

When  she  felt  herself  dying  after  a  reign  of  nineteen 
years,  when  she  was  forced  at  forty-two  years  of  age  to  leave 
these  palaces,  these  riches,  these  heaped-up  marvels  of  Art, 
this  power  so  envied,  so  disputed,  but  which"  she  retained  in 
her  hands  unbroken  till  her  last  day,  she  did  not  say,  like 
Mazarin,  with  a  sigh,  "  Must  I  leave  all  this  ? "  She  faced 
death  with  a  firm  eye,  and,  as  the  rector  of  the  Madeleine, 
having  come  to  visit  her  at  Versailles,  turned  to  go  away, 
she  said,  "  Wait  a  minute,  Monsieur  le  cure*,  for  I  am  going 
too." 

Madame  de  Pompadour  may  be  considered  as  the  last  in 
date  of  the  mistresses  of  the  king.  After  her,  it  is  impossible 
to  descend  and  enter  with  decency  into  the  history  of  the 
Du  Barry.  The  kings  and  emperors  who  have  since  then 
ruled  in  France  have  been  either  too  virtuous,  or  too  de- 
spotic, or  too  gouty,  or  too  repentant,  or  too  domestic,  to 
allow  themselves  such  inutilities ;  scarcely  a  vestige  is  now 
seen  of  them ;  Mme.  de  Pompadour  remains  the  last  in  sight 
in  the  history  of  France,  and  the  most  brilliant. 

To  return  to  Cardinal  de  Bernis  and  the  history  of  his 
ministry  under  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  during  the  last  year  of 
it  (1758)  he  does,  as  it  were,  nothing  but  invoke,  and  call  to 
his  aid  M.  de  Choiseul.  He  seems  to  have  early  chosen  and 
promised  him  to  himself  as  his  successor  'as  soon  as  he  had 
provided  for  the  most  pressing  difficulties.  His  plan,  after 
the  victories  won  by  the  King  of  Prussia  at  Eosbach,  and  at 
Lissa,  was  to  make  peace.  But  what  peace  ?  will  be  asked. 
Could  France  and  Austria  negotiate  on  the  morrow  beneath 
the  blow  of  a  double  defeat?  There  is  a  sentiment  of 
dignity  that  goes  before  all  else,  of  high  national  propriety 
and  of  honour  in  the  crown,  as  they  said  in  those  days. 
This  sentiment  was  in  the  heart  of  Maria  Theresa,  but 


INTRODUCTION.  49 

Bernis  had  it  not ;  he  reasons  in  all  his  letters  very  much 
as  Madame  de  Maintenon  did  in  those  she  wrote  to  the 
Princesse  des  Ursins,  in  which  the  word  "  peace  "  recurs  on 
every  page.  Bernis  explains  himself  clearly  in  a  letter  to 
Choiseul  of  January  6, 1758 ;  he  reveals  to  him  his  thought 
before  he  imparts  it  to  the  king. 

"  My  advice  would  be,"  he  says,  "  to  make  peace,  and  to 
begin  it  by  a  truce  on  sea  and  land.  When  I  know  what 
the  king  thinks  of  this  idea,  which  is  not  according  to  my 
way  of  thinking,  but  which  good  sense,  reason,  and  necessity 
present  to  me,  I  will  give  you  the  particulars.  Meantime, 
try  to  make  M.  de  Kaunitz  [Austrian  prime-minister]  feel 
two  things  that  are  equally  true :  that  the  king  will  never 
abandon  the  empress,  but  on  the  other  hand  that  he  must 
not  be  ruined  with  her.  Our  respective  faults  have  made  of 
a  great  project,  which,  early  hi  September,  was  infallible,  a 
broken  neck  and  certain  ruin.  It  was  a  fine  dream  which 
it  would  be  dangerous  to  continue,  —  though  it  might  be 
possible  to  resume  it  some  day  with  better  actors  and 
military  plans  'more  judiciously  made.  The  more  I  have 
been  closely  concerned  in  this  great  alliance,  the  more  I 
ought  to  be  believed  when  I  counsel  peace." 

That  which  Bernis  evidently  lacks  in  the  whole  of  this 
purely  political  portion  of  his  career  is  the  nature  and  stamp 
of  a  statesman ;  having  neither  that  character  nor  the  ap- 
pearance of  it,  he  did  not  know  how  to  obtain  over  his 
surroundings  an  ascendency  which  is  never  granted  except 
to  those  who  cannot  be  refused.  Comprehending  as  a  man 
of  sense  all  the  difficulties  and  the  causes  of  the  ruin,  he 
sees  no  other,  remedy  than  to  renounce  promptly  what  had 
been  undertaken  with  such  levity.  Choiseul,  however,  re- 
sists this  advice ;  he  sees  the  shame  and  danger  of  it ;  he 
makes  objections  and  leads  Bernis  to  explain  himself  on  this 

VOL.  I. — 4 


50  INTRODUCTION. 

peace  which  is  of  a  nature  to  break  up  the  alliance.  Bernis 
indicates  his  plan,  which,  after  all,  was  never  more  than  a 
sketch ;  it  merely  concerned,  according  to  him,  negotiating 
separately  with  the  King  of  Prussia ;  but  "  the  best  way  to 
bring  that  king  to  reason  is  to  make  peace  with  England ; 
and  it  is  of  that  that  I  think  night  and  day  "  (January  25, 
1758).  This  idea  of  a  private  peace  with  the  English  for 
which  he  had  begun,  he  says,  to  build  up  little  foundations, 
became  almost  impossible  after  the  Convention  signed  in 
London,  (April  11),  between  the  kings  of  England  and 
Prussia,  into  which  the  Court  of  Versailles  never  entered. 

He  began  this  year  of  1758  with  the  blackest  anticipations, 
too  soon  justified.  A  Colbert  for  the  kingdom,  a  Louvois  for 
the  war,  and  a  Louis  XIV.  on  the  throne  were,  undoubtedly, 
what  was  needed.  Bernis  has  the  merit  of  feeling,  too  late, 
this  utter  void,  this  nothingness ;  but  while  deploring 
them  he  has  nothing  with  which  to  fill  them;  he  is  not 
of  those  who  have  the  right  to  say,  "  I  will ! "  Nature  did 
not  mark  him  on  the  forehead  with  the  seal  of  command 
and  authority ;  he  pities  himself  perpetually  and  gives  way. 

In  this  series  of  lamentable  confidences  one  feature  in 
these  letters  makes  me  smile;  I  see,  as  it  were,  the  seal 
and  colour  of  the  epoch  and  the  remains  of  a  frivolity 
which,  in  Bernis,  still  clung  to  the  public  man.  In  Feb- 
ruary, 1758,  in  the  midst  of  the  gravest  circumstances,  he 
accepts  an  elegant  commission  to  be  conveyed  to  M.  de 
Choiseul:  "Do  not  forget,  I  beg  of  you,  my  commission 
for  a  lady's  dress,  blue  ground,  embroidered  in  white  silk  on 
some  spring  texture."  Slight  accident !  M.  de  Choiseul 
makes  a  mistake,  the  dress  arrives  with  the  despatches  at 
the  end  of  March.  "  The  ground  is  white  and  the  flowers 
blue,  and  I  was  asked  to  get  a  blue  ground  and  white 
flowers  —  but  they  like  it  just  as  well  as  it  is."  And  farther 


INTRODUCTION.  51 

on :  "  The  gown  is  thought  very  pretty."  The  abbe'-minister 
was  not,  we  perceive,  entirely  on  ill  terms  with  chiffon 
gallantry. 

The  situation  on  the  side  of  France  was  growing  worse 
and  worse  daily.  In  this  absence  of  all  order  and  supreme 
direction  the  Due  de  Eichelieu  chose  to  return  to  Paris  as 
if  he  had  nothing  to  do  in  Hanover;  all  the  generals  re- 
quested their  return.  The  Comte  de  Clermont,  prince  of  the 
blood,  sent  as  commander-in-chief,  made  blunder  after  blunder. 
He  began  by  a  precipitate  retreat  of  exaggerated  length, 
which  looked  like  a  rout.  It  seemed  as  if  this  descendant 
of  the  Great  Conde*  saw  nothing  more  urgent  than  to  put 
panic  into  the  order  of  the  day.  Here,  Bernis  speaks  with 
nobler  accent :  "  As  for  me,  I  would  rather  have  destroyed 
our  army  by  a  battle  than  by  retreat ;  I  even  believe  that 
such  a  course  would  have  been  to  the  preservation  of  the 
men  ...  I  thought  I  should  die  of  shame  and  grief."  And 
in  another  place  he  adds:  "I  composed  the  letter  which 
the  king  wrote  to  the  Comte  de  Clermont  to  prevent  him 
from  quitting  the  Rhine,  where,  inconceivable  fact !  he  thought 
he  was  not  in  safety  (April,  1758).  The  letter  is  firm  and 
decided.  But  it  is  not  enough  to  be  strong  at  one  moment; 
we  must  be  so  consistently  and  at  all  points.  But  how 
attain  it  ?  My  only  hope,  which,  after  all,  is  only  a  woman's 
or  a  child's  sentiment,  is  that  if  I  am  not  dead  of  our  shame 
it  is  possible  that  I  am  reserved  to  repair  it.  I  would  it 
might  be  so  and  that  I  might  die  immediately  after  it." 

Let  us  count  to  his  credit  such  words,  in  which  he  is  only 
to  blame  for  speaking  a  little  too  much  of  dying,  and  let  us 
draw  a  veil  over  the  hideous  and  circumstantial  exposure  he 
gives  of  the  general  degradation  of  that  period  —  degradation 
which  had  even  invaded  the  camps,  that  last  refuge  of  honour ! 
It  is  not  possible,  even  after  the  lapse  of  a  century,  to  read  a 


52  INTRODUCTION. 

certain  letter  of  Bernis,  written  March  31,  1758,  without 
blushing.  Never  was  the  decadence  of  the  monarchy  of  Louis 
XV.  more  nakedly  exposed ;  we  feel,  from  the  nature  of  the 
evil,  that  it  is  very  near  to  dissolution.  A  few  traits,  never- 
theless, in  this  disheartening  future  must  be  excepted ;  the 
soldiers  worn-out  with  fatigue,  have  kept  their  willingness, 
and  are  worth  much  more  than  those  who  command  them. 
Bernis  concludes  the  letter  with  a  few  words  in  which 
he  does  justice  to  the  genius,  so  full  of  impetus,  of  the 
French  race.  His  words  are  profoundly  true,  applying  them 
—  I  do  not  say  to  the  morals  but  —  to  the  sentiments 
and  spirit  of  our  nation,  which  we  have  seen  more  than 
once  turn  and  recover  itself  in  a  moment  under  a  powerful 
hand. 

It  is  here  that  the  insufficiency  of  Bernis  and  at  the  same 
time  his  honesty  manifest  themselves ;  he  begins  to  be  sick, 
morally  and  physically.  His  nerves  are  affected;  exposed 
to  the  universal  attack  of  public  opinion  which  is  now 
wholly  declared  in  favour  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  without 
direct  means  of  remedying  the  evils  and  disasters  of  each 
passing  day,  obliged  to  provide  for  the  subsidies  of  the  allies, 
sensitive  to  the  fear  of  failing  in  his  engagements  if  money 
fails  (and  money  is  very  often  delayed),  —  under  the  press- 
ure of  all  this  he  utters  cries  of  distress  and  does  not 
hesitate  to  enter  into  disagreement  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour. 
She  can  permit  all ;  he  owes  her  all,  he  will  never  quarrel 
with  her;  but  neither  does  he  conceal  what  he  considers 
the  full  truth  on  the  situation,  and  she  does  not  thank 
him  for  it.  The  finances,  nominally  directed  by  M.  de 
Boullongue,  are  exhausted ;  all  resources  depend  on  P£ris- 
Montmartel  (brother  of  Paris-Duverney) ;  it  is  he  who 
supplies  the  funds,  and  the  controller-general  is,  in  a  way 
only  his  clerk.  The  country  is  on  the  point  of  bankruptcy 


INTRODUCTION.  53 

in  April,  1758,  for  twelve  millions  of  notes  drawn  for  the 
navy,  which  Bernis  fears  will  be  protested. 

Here  Bernis  shows  himself  again  subject  to  delusion. 
Filled  with  the  idea  that  what  is  wanted  is  unity  of  manage- 
ment, a  single  motor,  a  prime-minister  in  fact,  and  with 
some  such  title,  he  deludes  himself  so  far  as  to  believe  that 
it  might  be  himself,  that  Mme.  de  Pompadour  could  desire 
nothing  better  than  that  such  a  minister  should  be  a  friend 
whom  she  could  govern.  He  presents  a  memorial  to  the 
Council  on  this  subject,  proving  the  necessity  of  a  sole  and 
chief  direction.  Let  us  do  him  the  justice  to  say  that  he 
does  not  seem  to  have  dwelt  long  on  the  idea  of  being 
himself  prime-minister.  He  inclines  to  propose  the  Mare*- 
chal  de  Belle-Isle,  who  would  really,  he  thinks,  exercise 
authority. 

In  Paris,  the  exasperation  of  the  public  mind  had  reached 
its  height  in  this  summer  of  1758,  and  it  lasted  until  a  few 
successes  of  M.  de  Broglie  the  following  year  broke  the 
cruel  uniformity  of  reverses.  "  They  threaten  me  in  anony- 
mous letters,"  writes  Bernis ;  and  a  second  defeat  of  M.  de 
Soubise  would  have  sufficed  to  make  the  populace  stone 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  in  the  streets  of  Paris. 

By  this  time  Bernis  had  reached  a  state  that  was  one  of 
disease,  of  downright  nervous  exhaustion,  infinitely  honour- 
able in  its  origin,  but  which  must  have  made  him  little 
fit  to  perform  the  role  which,  in  his  heart,  he  no  longer  had 
any  ambition  to  play.  "  Do  not  speak  of  me  again  for  the 
first  influence,"  he  writes  in  sincere  tones  to  Choiseul ;  "  you 
do  me  wrong ;  I  seem  to  be  prompting  you  and  to  be  solely 
ambitious,  when  I  am  really  only  a  citizen  and  a  man  of  good 
sense."  In  August,  1758,  he  opens  himself  freely  to  Choiseul, 
proposing  to  him  to  become  his  successor.  This  proposal 
was  not  a  lure ;  Bernis  thought  what  he  said.  His  delusion 


54  INTRODUCTION. 

was  to  suppose  that  after  being  the  influential  minister  of 
the  first  rank  he  could  step  back  at  will,  associate  with  him- 
self a  colleague,  not  a  rival,  blend  intimately  with  him,  and 
under  this  agreeable  form,  which  he  defines  himself  as  "  two 
heads  under  one  cap,"  do  good  to  the  State,  all  the  while 
relieving  himself  of  the  sole  and  odious  weight  of  the  burden. 

Choiseul  is  made  duke  (August,  1758).  Bernis  is  about 
to  be  made  cardinal ;  this  is  the  moment  when  the  minis- 
terial combination  meditated  by  the  latter,  and  on  which  he 
counts,  is  to  be  sealed  and  accomplished.  But  it  was  not 
enough  to  persuade  Choiseul  and  convince  him  that  he 
ought  to  be  minister;  it  was  necessary  to  also  persuade 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  and  the  king.  The  proposal  was  not 
at  first  agreeable  to  them.  Bernis  had  drawn  up  a  memorial 
to  the  king  in  favour  of  Choiseul,  which  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour was  to  give  to  him.  She  disliked  and  resisted  the  idea 
of  a  change.  We  shall  not  get  the  key  to  this  ministerial 
revolution  and  its  secret  spring,  which  lies  in  the  mental 
condition  of  Bernis,  unless  we  read  the  truly  desperate  letters 
which  he  writes  from  time  to  time  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour. 
They  are  not  those  of  a  minister  or  statesman ;  it  is  a  sick 
man  who  writes  and  enumerates  the  symptoms  by  which 
he  is  attacked,  —  colics  that  last  ten  hours,  frequent  and 
increasing  giddiness,  obstinate  insomnia.1 

One  political  idea  mingles  with  the  uneasiness  and  grow- 
ing agony  of  Bernis:  M.  de  Choiseul  was  not  so  directly 
committed  as  himself  to  the  policy  of  the  alliance,  and  on 
his  entrance  to  the  ministry  he  would  be  free  to  break  or 

1  Sainte-Beuve,  when  he  wrote  this,  had  no  knowledge  of  Bernis'  auto- 
biographical memoir.  The  reader,  who  has  the  memoir  in  these  volumes, 
will  see  that  Bernis,  though  his  nerves  gave  way,  was  not  a  valetudinarian, 
but  an  over-worked  honest  man,  who  tried  to  make  headway  with  reason- 
able ideas  against  the  corruption,  apathy,  and  intrigues  around  him,  and 
became  worn-out,  for  a  time,  in  the  struggle.  —  TR. 


INTRODUCTION.  55 

modify  what  had  been  done  by  others.  "  None  but  a  new 
minister  can  make  new  engagements.  The  Due  de  Choiseul 
is  the  only  one  who  can  maintain  the  king's  system  or 
undo  it."  That  is  Bernis'  just  idea;  but  so  long  as  he 
applied  it  to  himself  personally  and  turned  it  against 
himself  the  idea  became  to  him  a  stinging  and  intolerable 
remorse ;  and  it  is  this  which  explains  the  word  "dishonour  " 
which  returns  so  often  under  his  pen.  "Kemember,"  he 
writes  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour  on  the  evening  of  September 
26,  "  that  it  is  impossible  that  I  should  be  the  one  to  break 
the  treaties  which  I  have  made." 

It  is  not  for  us  to  reproach  Bernis  for  so  honourable  a 
sensibility;  but  it  is  evident  that  his  morale  was  more 
affected  than  was  suitable  in  a  man  charged  with  conduct- 
ing great  public  affairs,  and  that  ministerial  responsibility 
would  be  henceforth  too  much  for  him.  He  sent  his 
memorial  to  the  king,  in  which  he  developed  with  some 
energy  his  motives,  and  gave  an  undisguised  exposition  of 
the  state  of  things.  In  it  he  continued  to  cling  to  his 
chimera,  namely  to  remain  in  the  Council  after  resigning  his 
portfolio  to  M.  de  Choiseul,  intending  to  help  out  the  new 
minister,  and  to  be  helped  out  by  him.  Louis  XV.,  dis- 
pleased, made  no  answer  on  that  point ;  he  simply  consented 
to  Bernis'  resignation  in  favour  of  M.  de  Choiseul,  in  a  letter 
dated  October  9,  1758. 

Choiseul  could  do  nothing  but  return  at  once  from  Vienna ; 
but  the  king  and  Mme.  de  Pompadour  continued  displeased 
with  Bernis.  It  was  at  this  moment  that  he  received  the 
cardinal's  hat ;  he  had  been  loaded  with  favours  and  bene- 
fits for  the  last  two  years ;  appointed  successively  Abb£  de 
Saint-MMard,  Abb£  des  Trois-Fontaines,  and  Commander  of 
the  Saint-Esprit ;  they  might  wonder,  therefore,  that  he 
wearied  of  serving  at  the  very  moment  when  he  could 


56  INTRODUCTION. 

scarcely  obtain  any  further  increase  of  fortune.  Malicious 
remarks  circulated  in  the  salons  of  Paris  and  Versailles ; 
words  were  put  into  his  mouth  which  he  disavowed ;  he  was 
made  to  say  that  he  retired  because  he  wanted  peace  and 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  did  not  want  it.  It  was  whispered 
about  that  the  king  was  angry  with  him  for  resigning  the 
ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs. 

During  these  last  weeks,  Bernis  was  kept  explaining  at 
every  turn ;  the  position,  as  it  went  on,  became  untenable. 
The  arrival  of  M.  de  Choiseul,  at  the  end  of  November  only 
complicated  matters;  for,  however  loyal  and  sincere  the 
successor  and  the  predecessor  might  be  and  were,  it  was  im- 
possible that  good  friends  at  Court  should  not  do  their  best 
to  put  them  on  bad  terms.  The  delusion  and,  if  I  may  say 
so,  the  good  nature  of  Bernis  in  this  position,  knowing  the 
Court  as  he  did,  show  themselves  in  his  not  having  consid- 
ered in  advance  these  difficulties,  which  were  wholly  inevi- 
table, and  came  from  the  very  nature  of  things. 

Louis  XV.  cut  short  the  difficulty  by  an  order,  which 
Bernis  received  December  13,  exiling  him  to  his  abbey  near 
Soissons ;  a  letter  of  his  to  the  king  written  on  receiving  the 
order,  and  another  written  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day 
to  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  express  sentiments  of  perfect  sub- 
mission and  infinite  gratitude  for  the  past,  without  a  single 
word  of  complaint. 

Four  days  later,  from  his  chateau  of  Vic-sur-Aisne,  near 
Soissons,  where  he  was  to  pass  his  exile,  he  wrote  to  M.  de 
Choiseul  to  assure  him  that  he  did  not  impute  his  dismissal 
to  him,  and  to  regulate  their  future  intercourse.  His  corre- 
spondence with  M.  de  Choiseul,  taken  as  a  whole,  certainly 
does  not  elevate  Bernis ;  it  gives  and  fixes  his  measure  as  a 
leading  minister,  and  it  answers  a  question  which  I  put  to 
myself  as  I  entered  upon  this  subject:  he  had  not  the 


INTRODUCTION.  57 

stamina  of  a  statesman,  and  after  the  excitement  of  his 
first  successes,  his  organization,  put  to  too  strong  a  test, 
manifestly  gave  way.  He  was  reserved,  however,  for  a 
second  role,  more  sheltered,  more  pacific,  where,  limited  to 
diplomacy  and  official  representation,  he  recovered  the  use 
and  full  development  of  his  happy  qualities  and  his  useful 
courtesy. 

As  to  the  state  of  France  in  those  fatal  years  and  those 
worst  moments  of  Louis  XV.,  the  letters  of  Bernis  are  a  very 
sad  revelation;  and  it  is  honourable  for  him  to  have  been 
the  first  to  feel  and  to  express  that  profound  sadness  which 
they  continue  to  communicate  to  the  present  day.  At  the 
same  time,  we  issue  from  the  reading  of  these  letters  dis- 
posed to  do  justice  to  M.  de  Choiseul,  who,  from  a  situation 
so  compromised,  so  lost  in  fact,  was  able  to  draw  results 
sufficiently  specious,  sufficiently  brilliant  to  cast  a  veil  over 
the  decadence  of  France,  and  raise  the  nation  in  its  own 
eyes,  while  awaiting  its  regeneration  through  convulsions, 
and  its  entrance,  valiant  and  rejuvenated  (but  always  ac- 
cording to  the  spirit  of  the  chiefs  who  guided  it),  into  the 
sphere  of  its  new  destinies. 

Let  us  return  to  the  general  character  of  Cardinal  de 
Bernis,  whom  I  did  not  at  first  intend  to  take  so  politically 
nor  in  a  manner  so  grave.  That  which  seems  to  me  especially 
to  be  remarked  in  him,  as  hi  many  personages  of  the  upper 
French  clergy  of  the  eighteenth  century,  is  the  mixture 
of  worldliness,  philosophy  and  grace,  which,  little  by  little, 
brought  them,  by  good  sense  and  good  taste,  to  respect  and 
esteem ;  these  prelates  of  rank,  entering  too  lightly  into 
their  calling,  nevertheless  acquired  the  spirit  of  it  with  age ; 
they  became  at  a  given  moment  Churchmen  in  the  best 
acceptation  of  the  word,  without  ceasing  to  be  men  of  the 
world  and  agreeable  socially ;  then,  when  persecution  came, 


58  INTRODUCTION. 

when  the  hour  of  trial  and  danger  struck,  they  found  within 
them  both  courage  and  constancy ;  they  had  the  honour  of 
their  calling;  true  gentlemen  of  the  Church,  they  were 
ready  to  share  affliction  and  misfortune,  as  they  had 
formerly  sought  benefices  and  privileges.  This  was,  with 
few  exceptions,  the  part  played  by  the  upper  French  clergy 
during  the  Kevolution.  Those  of  these  prelates  who  survived 
it,  and  who  were  seen  to  reappear  after  the  Concordat,  such 
as  the  Boisgelins,  the  Baussets,  and  others,  present  to  us  a 
special  physiognomy,  at  once  venerable  and  smiling;  they 
shine  in  pure  and  polished  literature  of  an  elegance  that  is 
tempered  by  holiness ;  but  Bernis  is,  in  a  way,  the  leader 
and  senior  of  them  all.  He  died  in  Kome,  stripped  of  every- 
thing, in  the  height  of  the  Eevolution,  but  he  would  have 
worthily  passed  through  all  trials  to  its  end.  He  was  —  if  it 
is  permitted  to  thus  interpret  hearts  —  he  was  of  those  who, 
in  those  memorable  hours  when  acts  of  sacrifice  were  de- 
manded, recovered  their  catholic  faith  through  Honour,  and, 
rising  from  the  frailties  of  their  past,  became  true  Christians 
through  the  force  of  being  honest  men. 

In  December  1758,  Bernis,  then  just  fallen  from  the  min- 
istry, was  in  exile  at  Vic-sur-Aisne,  near  Soissons,  and  the 
first  months,  in  spite  of  his  philosophy  and  the  gentleness  of 
his  soul,  must  have  been  rather  painful  to  him.  He  had  his 
family  near  him,  but  he  did  not  yet  dare  to  receive  his  friends 
or  ask  for  the  necessary  permission  to  do  so.  M.  de  Choiseul 
watched  (and  sincerely  we  may  believe)  for  opportunities  to 
oblige  him  at  Court  and  to  serve  him ;  he  took  the  idea  very 
early  of  giving  him  the  residence  of  Eome,  but  the  way  had 
to  be  prepared  for  it.  "  On  my  side,"  Bernis  writes  to  him, 
May  14,  1759,  "I  am  thinking  only  of  binding  myself  to 
my  profession,  and  of  giving  to  the  course  I  take  in  this 
direction  the  time,  the  reflection  and  the  honesty  which  are 


INTRODUCTION.  59 

due  to  my  principles  and  my  character.  ...  I  shall  always 
be  ready  to  serve  the  king  when  you  think  I  can  be  useful 
to  him.  It  is  in  my  heart  to  do  so,  but  my  situation  does 
not  allow  of  my  asking  it.  When  I  speak  of  serving  the 
king  I  do  not  mean,  as  you  can  well  understand,  an  office 
at  Court,  for  on  that  point  I  have  neither  plan  nor  hope." 

He  was  to  enter  the  priesthood  about  the  year  1760,  being 
then  forty-five  years  of  age.  His  nervous  illness  still  contin- 
ued and  made  him  desire  a  change  of  climate.  The  idea  of 
going  to  Eome  as  the  king's  minister  pleased  him  much ;  but 
he  desired  not  to  go  until  he  was  a  priest,  and  besides  that 
a  bishop.  There  was  talk  as  early  as  1760  of  giving  him 
the  bishopric  of  either  Lisieux  or  Condom  ;  the  latter  would 
have  suited  him  best,  as  being  in  his  native  region.  But  a 
difficulty  lay  in  the  oath  which  he  was  required  to  take  as 
bishop  before  the  king  himself.  Louis  XV.,  who,  although 
he  had  neither  bitterness  nor  animosity  against  Bernis,  would 
have  felt  embarrassed  and  annoyed  at  seeing  him  again  so 
soon.  Five  long  years  went  by,  softened  no  doubt  by  visits 
from  friends  and  by  the  journeys  and  sojourns  he  was  allowed 
to  make  in  the  South  among  members  of  his  family;  bub 
for  all  that,  they  were  five  years  of  exile  and  forced  separa- 
tion from  social  life.  It  was  not  until  January,  1764,  that 
his  disgrace  ended,  and  a  ray  of  favour  appeared ;  on  which 
Bernis  wrote  as  follows  to  Voltaire  (January  16, 1764) :  — 

"  The  king  has  given  me  for  a  New  Year's  present,  my  dear 
colleague,  the  best  of  all  benefits, —  freedom,  and  the  per- 
mission to  pay  my  court  to  him,  which  is  most  precious  and 
dear  to  a  Frenchman  who  has  been  loaded  with  favours  by 
his  master.  I  was  received  at  Versailles  with  all  sorts  of 
kindness.  In  Paris  the  public  showed  its  joy ;  the  makers 
of  horoscopes  have  had  a  hundred  idle  fancies  on  the  subject, 
each  more  extravagant  than  the  others.  As  for  me,  who 


60  INTRODUCTION. 

have  long  learned  to  bear  both  fortune  and  misfortune,  I 
have  escaped  from  congratulations,  real  and  false,  and  have 
returned  to  my  winter  home,  whence  I  shall  go  from  time  to 
time  to  pay  my  duty  at  Versailles  and  to  see  my  friends  in 
Paris.  The  older  persons  at  Court  have  served  me  with 
friendliness,  so  that  my  heart  is  much  at  ease ;  and  I  have 
never  hoped  for  a  position  more  agreeable,  more  free,  more 
honourable." 

The  horoscopes  were  too  hasty ;  Fortune  is  often  slower 
in  deciding  on  her  method  of  return  than  in  giving  her 
first  favours.  Appointed  Archbishop  of  Alby  in  the  same 
year  (May,  1764),  Bernis  had  to  employ  himself  in  his 
diocese  longer  than  he  expected.  He  did  so  with  pro- 
priety and  even  with  zeal,  for  he  was  good  and  had  that  hu- 
manity which,  at  need,  is  ready  for  a  time  to  do  .the  office 
and  function  of  charity.  Nevertheless,  the  sacred  spark  did 
not  inspire  him  ;  ennui  was  frequent,  and  he  had  long  hours 
of  distaste  for  his  life.  It  was  too  much  to  have  to  practise 
a  second  time  and  for  so  many  years  the  saying  of  his  youth, 
"  I  will  wait."  In  vain  had  he  said,  "  I  love  Letters ;  they 
have  done  me  more  good  than  I  have  done  them  honour ; " 
Letters  alone  did  not  suffice  him.  It  was  time  that  public 
affairs  and  the  world  should  return  to  occupy  this  lively  and 
brilliant  intellect.  Pope  Clement  XIII.  died,  and  Bernis 
received  from  M:  de  Choiseul,  February  21,  1769,  an  order 
to  start  without  delay  for  the  Conclave.  Kome  henceforth 
was  to  be  his  residence  and  almost  his  country,  for  as  soon 
as  the  Conclave  ended  he  was  appointed  ambassador  and 
his  great  career  began  once  more. 

During  his  years  of  exile  and  of  residence  in  his  diocese, 
and  even  during  the  first  period  of  his  life  in  Eome,  he  kept 
up  a  correspondence  with  Voltaire,  which  was  published  for 
the  first  time  in  1799,  by  M.  de  Bourgoing,  and  is  very  agree- 


INTRODUCTION.  61 

able  reading.1  Bernis  does  not  pale  at  all  before  his  formi- 
dable correspondent.  To  judge  properly  of  the  tone  of  this 
correspondence  we  must  not  forget  the  respective  positions 
of  the  two  personages.  Voltaire  had  known  Bernis  as  a 
poet  and  a  man  of  gallantry ;  he  had  seen  much  of  him  in 
society  and  under  his  first  form  of  frivolity  and  dissipation. 
Bernis  had,  moreover,  the  honour  of  being  his  colleague  in 
the  French  Academy,  where,  singular  to  relate  !  being  twenty 
years  younger  and  with  so  slender  a  kit,  he  had  preceded 
him.  There  was,  therefore,  between  them  a  familiarity  of 
good  taste,  the  limits  of  which  were  rather  undecided.  Vol- 
taire, when  he  saw  Bernis  become  a  cardinal,  an  archbishop, 
and  thus  involved  in  the  highest  dignities  of  the  Church, 
was  disposed  to  treat  him  with  all  flattery  and  laudation  on 
condition  of  mingling  therewith  more  than  one  malicious 
jest,  and,  if  allowed  to  do  so,  more  than  one  religious  imper- 
tinence. Bernis  could  not,  without  being  pedantic  and  ridic- 
ulous, appear  to  perceive  all  the  irreverence  of  his  colleague, 
and  still  less  to  be  shocked  by  it.  It  sufficed  him  to  turn  it 
aside,  indirectly,  with  a  witty  saying ;  or  sometimes,  if  Vol- 
taire went  too  far,  to  recall  him  to  propriety  by  disguising 
the  advice  with  praises.  He  does  not  fail  to  do  this  ;  Bernis 
has  the  merit  of  remaining  true  to  himself  in  this  correspon- 
dence ;  he  knows  how  to  take  a  jest,  and  he  also  knows  how 
to  stop  it  discreetly  when  it  passes  the  proper  bounds.  To 
judge  rightly  of  the  spirit  of  these  letters  they  should  not  be 
taken  in  detached  passages,  but  should  be  read  as  a  whole. 

The  first  letter  from  Voltaire  to  Bernis  is  written  near  the 
close  of  the  latter's  ministry,  when  he  was  about  to  be  made 


1  The  correspondence  with  Voltaire  is  not  included  in  these  translated 
volumes.  But  Sainte-Beuve's  account  of  it  is  given  here  as  affording  the 
reader  a  glimpse  of  a  side  of  Bernis  that  does  not  appear  in  his  other  let- 
ters, which  are  chiefly  political  or  relating  to  public  matters. — TK. 


62  INTRODUCTION. 

a  cardinal.  Voltaire  congratulates  him  the  moment  that  he 
hears  of  it :  "I  ought  to  feel  more  interest  than  others  in  this 
agreeable  news,  inasmuch  as  you  have  deigned  to  set  my 
calling  above  that  of  Cardinal  Eichelieu."  And  he  pushes 
flattery,  at  the  moment,  so  far  as  to  say :  "  I  do  not  know  if 
I  deceive  myself,  but  I  am  convinced  that  your  ministry  will 
be  fortunate  and  great ;  for  you  have  two  things  which  have 
gone  out  of  fashion,  —  genius  and  constancy." 

After  this  the  correspondence  stops  and  is  not  resumed 
for  three  years ;  it  begins  again  during  Bernis'  exile  (October, 
1761) :  "  Monseigneur,  thank  God  who  has  caused  you  to 
still  love  Letters !  With  that  taste,  a  stomach  that  digests, 
two  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  the  red  hat,  a  man 
is  above  all  sovereigns  ..."  Bernis  replies  by  at  once 
putting  his  witty  correspondence  on  the  tone  and  point  that 
he  desires :  — 

"  I  am  not  ungrateful,  my  dear  colleague ;  I  have  always 
felt  and  owned  that  Letters  have  been  more  useful  to  me 
than  the  most  fortunate  chances  of  my  life.  In  my  early 
youth  they  opened  to  me  an  agreeable  door  into  the  world ; 
they  consoled  me  for  the  long  neglect  of  Cardinal  de  Fleury 
and  the  inflexible  harshness  of  the  Bishop  of  Mirepoix. 
When  circumstances  pushed  me,  almost  in  spite  of  myself, 
upon  the  great  stage,  Letters  made  the  world  say  of  me, '  At 
any  rate,  he  knows  how  to  read  and  write.'  I  quitted  them 
for  public  affairs,  but  I  never  forgot  them,  and  I  now  return 
to  them  with  pleasure.  You  wish  me  a  good  digestion ;  that 
is  not  possible  now.  For  twelve  years  I  have  been  very 
temperate,  but  I  have  a  gouty  humour  in  my  body  which  has 
not  yet  fixed  itself  on  the  extremities,  and  may  oblige  me  to 
go  and  consult  the  oracle  of  Geneva  [Doctor  Tronchin].  In 
this  plan  there  is  as  much  desire  to  see  you  again  as  to  be 
cured  of  my  gout." 


INTRODUCTION.  63 

Let  me  be  permitted  here  to  make  a  remark  on  the  way  of 
living  and  diet  of  Bernis.  It  was  not  what  might  be  supposed 
from  the  accounts  that  are  given  of  his  sumptuous  table,  and 
the  plumpness  that  we  see  in  his  portraits.  Bernis'  cook  was 
already  celebrated  in  the  days  of  his  embassy  to  Venice ; 
and  we  have  seen  Algarotti  fearing  his  temptations  to  glut- 
tony, which  he  knew  that  he  could  not  resist.  The  cook  of 
the  ambassador  to  Kome  had  no  less  reputation,  and  Bernis 
felt  bound  one  day  to  write  to  M.  de  Choiseul  in  reply  to  foolish 
rumours  set  afloat  on  the  luxury  of  his  table :  "  A  good  or  a 
bad  cook  makes  people  talk  or  say  nothing  about  the  cost  of 
an  ambassador's  table ;  but  that  cost  is  none  the  less,  whether 
the  table  is  well  or  ill  served,  though  the  result  is  very  differ- 
ent." It  is  recorded  that  Bernis,  at  the  sumptuous  table  he 
offered  to  others,  lived  himself  frugally  on  a  wholly  vegetable 
diet.  "  I  dined  at  our  ambassador's  with  Angelica  Kaufmann," 
writes  Mme.  Vige*e  Le  Brun  in  her  Memoirs.  "  He  placed  us 
at  table  on  each  side  of  him ;  he  had  invited  several  foreigners 
and  a  part  of  the  diplomatic  corps ;  so  we  were  thirty  at  the 
dinner,  of  which  the  cardinal  did  the  honours  perfectly, 
while  eating  himself  only  two  little  dishes  of  vegetables." 
This  was  true  of  Bernis  in  1790,  and  was  already  an  old 
custom  with  him  in  1761. 

Bernis  also  reduces  what  Voltaire  says  about  his  income  of 
two  hundred  thousand  francs.  He  had  not  at  that  time  one 
hundred  thousand,  nor  even  that  until  his  debts  were  paid ; 
but  in  the  end  he  was  fairly  and  honourably  provided  for. 
"  It  is  much,"  he  says,  "  for  a  younger  son  of  Gascony,  even 
if  it  is  little  for  a  cardinal.  The  deacons  of  the  Eoman 
church  do  not  have  as  much  ;  and  I  am  not  sorry  to  be  the 
poorest  of  the  French  cardinals,  because  no  one  is  ignorant 
that  it  depended  only  on  myself  to  be  the  richest."  That 
Bernis  really  had  this  tranquillity  and  content  of  which  he 


64  INTRODUCTION. 

speaks,  and  that  it  was  his  fundamental  condition  during 
his  years  of  inaction  and  exile,  I  should  not  dare  to  say ;  it  is 
enough  that  he  tends  towards  it,  and  turns  to  it,  whenever 
possible,  by  reflection,  and  that  his  natural  disposition  is 
never  at  war  with  his  desire. 

Voltaire  sends  Bernis  some  of  his  writings  before  publica- 
tion ;  he  consults  him  on  his  tragedies  and  asks  his  advice, 
which  Bernis  gives  him  in  detail,  conscientiously  and  with 
sincerity.  "  Cassandra  "  was  written  in  six  days,  and  Voltaire 
boasts  of  it,  calling  it  "The  Six  Days'  Work."  Bernis 
advises  him  to  put  six  more  into  improving  the  style  of 
the  play  and  perfecting  it.  He  gives  his  reasons  as  a 
judicious  critic  and  a  good  Academician.  These  innocent 
consultations  are  interspersed  with  jests,  more  or  less  keen, 
on  all  sorts  of  subjects.  When  Voltaire  introduces  politics, 
Bernis  evades  them  pleasantly.  The  name  of  Eichelieu 
often  returns  to  Voltaire's  pen  as  if  to  convey  an  indirect 
flattery :  "  Ah  !  how  people  act  and  judge  !  how  few  act  well 
or  judge  well  I  Cardinal  Eichelieu  had  no  taste  ;  and,  good 
God !  was  he  as  great  a  man  as  they  say  ?  I  have  perhaps 
at  the  bottom  of  my  heart  the  insolence  of  .  .  . ;  but  I 
dare  not  ..."  Bernis  never  answers  these  insinuations,  and 
turns  a  deaf  ear  to  such  exaggerated  and,  in  fact,  insolent 
praise  from  a  satirical  man. 

When,  however,  he  is  touched  in  a  more  truthful  manner, 
he  makes  answer,  and  does  it  admirably.  Voltaire,  seeing 
him  still  in  the  inaction  of  private  life,  and  excusing  him- 
self for  finding  nothing  better  with  which  to  cheat  the  years 
than  the  writing  of  tragedies,  says  to  him:  "But  what  is 
there  better  to  do  ?  Must  we  not  play  with  life  till  the 
last  moment  ?  Is  not  life  a  child  to  be  rocked  till  it  sleeps  ? 
You  are  still  in  the  flower  of  your  age ;  what  will  you  do 
with  your  genius,  your  acquired  knowledge,  and  all  your 


INTRODUCTION.  65 

talents  ?  That  puzzles  me.  When  you  have  built  at  Vic 
you  will  find  that  Vic  leaves  a'great  void  in  the  soul,  which 
must  be  filled  by  something  better.  You  possess  the  sacred 
fire,  but  with  what  aromatics  are  you  feeding  it  ?  I  own 
that  I  am  infinitely  curious  to  know  what  will  become  of 
a  soul  like  yours."  Bernis  replies  with  a  thought,  and,  so 
to  speak,  a  voice,  of  enchanting  sweetness :  — 

"You  are  troubled  for  my  soul  in  the  void  of  idleness 
to  which  I  am  henceforth  condemned.  Acknowledge  that 
you  think  me  ambitious,  like  all  my  kind.  If  you  knew 
more  you  would  know  that  I  entered  office  a  philosopher, 
and  that  I  left  it  more  of  a  philosopher  than  ever,  and 
that  three  years  of  retirement  have  strengthened  that  man- 
ner of  thinking  until  it  is  now  unshakable.  I  know  how 
to  occupy  myself ;  but  I  am  wise  enough  not  to  let  the 
public  share  in  my  occupations.  To  be  happy  I  needed 
only  that  liberty  of  which  Virgil  speaks  :  '  Quce  sera  tamen 
respexit  inertem.'  I  possess  it  in  part;  with  time  I  shall 
possess  it  wholly.  A  hand  invisible  led  me  from  the 
mountains  of  the  Vivarais  to  the  summit  of  honours ;  let 
it  act ;  it  will  know  how  to  lead  me  to  an  honourable  and 
tranquil  condition.  And  then,  for  my  lesser  pleasures,  I 
shall,  in  the  order  of  nature,  be  the  elector  of  three  or 
four  popes,  and  I  shall  see  again  that  portion  of  the  world 
which  once  was  the  cradle  of  the  arts.  Is  not  this  enough 
to  rock  that  child  which  you  call  life?" 

The  singular  sweetness  of  this  philosophy,  so  truly  Ho- 
ratian,  asks  pardon  for  the  Ugerete  that  still  mingles  and  will 
long  continue  to  mingle  in  it.  Let  us  note,  however,  the 
"hand  invisible,"  which  is  not  in  Horace,  and  to  which 
Bernis  confides  himself ;  and  let  us  remember  that  when  the 
days  of  serious  adversity  and  ruin  come,  the  cardinal-arch- 
bishop, hearing  of  the  rigorous  spoliation  with  which  he 

VOL.   I.  —  5 


66  INTRODUCTION. 

and  all  the  clergy  of  France  are  threatened,  wrote  to  M.  de 
Montmorin :  "  You  must  have  remarked,  monsieur,  on  a 
hundred  occasions,  that  there  never  was  a  bishop-ambassador 
of  the  king  in  Eome  more  moderate  than  I,  more  friendly  to 
peace,  more  conciliating;  but,  if  I  am  driven  to  bay  by 
unjust  and  indelicate  demands  I  shall  remember  that,  at  an 
advanced  age,  a  man  should  concern  himself  only  in  render- 
ing to  the  Supreme  Judge  a  satisfactory  account  of  the 
accomplishment  of  his  duty."  These  last  words  of  Bernis 
ought  to  remain  ever  present  with  us  as  a  height  in  the  far 
distance  when  we  abandon  ourselves  with  him  to  the  amuse- 
ments and  human  charms  of  the  journey. 

In  action,  he  may  have  had  his  vanities,  his  illusions  of 
self-love,  his  desire  to  appear  to  have  done  more  than  he 
really  did  do ;  but  in  repose  and  in  reflection,'  in  presence 
of  himself,  he  is  always  modest.  Voltaire,  in  this  less 
human  than  he  admits,  laughs  at  times  to  see  the  King 
of  Prussia,  his  "  old  ingrate,"  worn-out,  and  the  implacable 
struggle  of  the  hunters  and  the  wild-boar  going  on.  "  Laugh," 
he  cries,  "and  profit  by  the  folly  and  imbecility  of  men. 
Here,  as  I  believe,  is  Europe  at  war  for  a  dozen  years.  It 
is  you,  by  the  way,  who  belled  the  cat.  You  gave  me  then 
an  infinite  pleasure.  .  .  ."  Bernis  is  not  at  all  proud  of 
the  whole  of  that  r6le  which  Voltaire  attributes  to  him : 
"  We  will  talk  some  other  day  of  the  bell  you  say  I  fastened. 
...  I  knew  an  architect  to  whom  it  was  said :  *  You  are 
to  make  the  plan  of  this  house,  but  be  it  understood  that,  the 
work  once  begun,  neither  the  diggers  nor  the  masons  nor  the 
mechanics  are  to  be  under  your  direction,  and  they  will 
set  aside  your  plan  as  much  as  they  please.'  Whereupon 
the  poor  architect  flung  down  his  plan  and  went  to  plant 
cabbages." 

He  does  not  regret  the  ministry  on  the  conditions  under 


INTRODUCTION.  67 

which  he  left  it,  and  he  sums  up  his  political  situation 
by  a  decisive  saying  which  is  at  once  a  very  true  judgment 
and  an  honourable  avowal  in  him  who  utters  it :  "I  feel 
with  you  how  fortunate  it  is  for  me  that  I  am  no 
longer  in  office;  I  have  not  the  necessary  capacity  to  re- 
establish matters,  and  I  am  too  sensitive  to  the  misfortunes 
of  my  country."  He  tries  to  console  himself  as  best  he  can, 
to  recompose  in  this  idleness,  which,  let  him  say  what  he 
will,  languishes  somewhat,  an  ideal  of  a  philosophical  and 
sufficiently  happy  life :  "  Eeading,  reflections  on  the  past  and 
the  future,  a  persistent  forgetfulness  of  the  present,  walks 
abroad,  a  little  conversation,  a  frugal  system,  —  all  this 
enters  into  the  plan  of  my  life;  your  letters  will  be  the 
charm  of  it."  This  last  point  is  not  mere  politeness ;  no  one 
could  better  enjoy  than  Bernis  the  mind  and  the  superiority 
of  Voltaire  in  all  that  he  did  well :  "  Write  me  from  time 
to  time ;  a  letter  from  you  embellishes  a  whole  day,  and  I 
know  the  value  of  a  day."  The  manner  in  which  Voltaire 
receives  his  literary  criticisms  and  takes  account  of  them, 
stirs  him  to  applause :  "  You  have  all  the  characteristics 
of  a  superior  man :  you  do  well,  you  do  fast,  and  you  are 
docile." 

Bernis  has  not,  in  literature,  so  timid  and  effeminate  a 
taste  as  one  might  think  from  his  own  verses.  Voltaire 
sends  him  on  one  occasion  Shakespeare's  "Julius  Caesar" 
and  Calderon's  "  Heraclius,"  calling  them  farces  or  follies  to 
amuse  him  and  put  him  in  good-humour;  to  which  Bernis 
replies  in  a  letter  full  of  grace  and  good  sense :  "  Our 
secretary  [of  the  Academy]  has  sent  me  Calderon's  *  Herac- 
lius,' my  dear  colleague,  and  I  have  just  read  the  *  Julius 
Caesar'  of  Shakespeare;  both  plays  have  given  me  great 
pleasure  as  serving  to  show  the  history  of  the  human  mind 
and  the  particular  taste  of  nations.  We  must  agree  that 


68  INTRODUCTION. 

those  tragedies,  however  extravagant  and  coarse  they  may 
be,  do  not  weary,  and  I  must  tell  you,  to  my  shame,  that 
these  old  rhapsodies,  in  which  there  are  from  time  to  time 
flashes  of  genius  and  very  natural  sentiments,  are  less  odious 
to  me  than  the  cold  elegies  of  our  mediocre  tragic  writers." 
It  was  not  exactly  with  the  intention  of  producing  this  result 
that  Voltaire  had  sent  them ;  the  true  and  serious  literary 
lesson  came  from  him  who  might  have  been  thought  the 
least  serious. 

I  fasten  to  the  honourable  sides  of  this  correspondence, 
to  the  parts  which  show  in  Bernis  a  man  who  has  propriety 
of  bearing  without  pedantry,  a  gentle  wisdom  which  does 
not  let  itself  be  encroached  upon.  I  read  in  the  index  of 
the  edition  of  Voltaire  prepared  by  Miger  for  the  estimable 
Beuchot :  "  Bernis  proposes  to  Voltaire  to  translate  into 
verse  the  Psalms  of  David."  Absurd !  Bernis  had  too 
much  tact  to  make  Voltaire  any  proposal  of  that  kind.  But 
Voltaire  is  tempted  constantly  to  send  Bernis  other  things 
than  tragedies ;  he  would  like  to  send  him  his  Tales,  his 
lighter  writings,  "  what  pleases  the  ladies.  But  I  dare  not," 
he  adds,  restraining  himself  with  difficulty.  To  which  Bernis 
always  answers,  especially  after  he  is  an  archbishop:  "If 
you  send  me  verses,  be  sure  that  they  are  such  as  I  can 
boast  of.  I  am  neither  a  pedant  nor  a  hypocrite,  but  surely 
you  would  be  grieved  if  I  were  not  what  I  ought  to  be  and 
seem."  And  another  day  he  says :  "  Send  me  your  decent 
Tales  [Contes  honnetes] ;  and,  as  it  is  very  reasonable  that 
I  should  preach  to  you  a  little,  I  beg  you  to  sometimes  quit 
the  lyre  and  the  lute  for  the  harp.  That  is  a  noble  style 
in  which  I  am  sure  you  could  be  more  lofty,  more  moving 
than  any  of  your  predecessors."  That  word  "  harp,"  lightly 
used,  is  far  indeed  from  being  a  proposal  to  Bernis  to 
"translate  the  Psalms!" 


INTRODUCTION.  69 

There  is  a  fine  passage  on  Bernis'  side  in  this  corre- 
spondence. Voltaire  has  sneered  too  flippantly  on  a  certain 
day ;  he  has  written  to  the  cardinal  a  gay  and  even  a  jocose 
letter  for  New  Year's  day  (1767),  sending  him  his  tragedy 
of  "  Les  Scythes,"  and  saying :  "  As  for  me,  puny  creature,  I 
make  war  to  the  last  moment :  Jansenists,  Molinists,  Fre'ron 
Pompignan ;  to  right,  to  left ;  and  the  Protestants,  and  J.-J. 
Eousseau.  I  get  a  hundred  thrusts,  I  return  two  hundred, 
and  I  laugh.  .  .  .  All  is  equal  at  the  end  of  the  day,  and  will 
be  still  more  equal  at  the  end  of  all  days."  Bernis  answers 
him,  and  this  answer,  fully  understood,  is,  from  end  to  end, 
a  wise  and  noble  lesson.  First,  he  makes  a  few  criticisms  on 
the  tragedy  of  "  Les  Scythes,"  which  are  less  remarks,  he 
says,  than  doubts :  "  I  love  your  fame,  and  it  is  that  which 
makes  me,  perhaps,  too  difficult  to  satisfy."  Then  he  con- 
gratulates Voltaire  on  the  talent  which  God  has  given  him  to 
correct  the  follies  of  his  epoch,  and  to  correct  them  with  a 
laugh,  making  others  who  have  retained  a  taste  for  "  good 
company  laugh  also.  Writers  sometimes  ridicule  this  good 
company  before  they  are  admitted  to  it,  but  it  is  very  rare 
that  they  seize  its  tone ;  now,  that  tone  is  nothing  else  than 
the  art  of  never  shocking  any  propriety."  He  points  out 
certain  absurdities  of  the  day  which  are  subjects  ready-made 
for  ridicule.  "  It  is  droll,"  he  says,  "  that  pride  rises  as  the 
period  lowers :  to-day  nearly  all  our  writers  want  to  be 
legislators,  founders  of  empires  ;  and  all  the  gentlemen  want 
to  pull  down  the  sovereigns."  And  he  ends  by  a  counsel 
which  Voltaire  too  little  regarded,  but  which  if  followed 
would  have  been,  in  place  of  the  universal  sneer  to  which 
he  gave  himself  up,  a  supreme  ideal  for  the  great  writer  in 
these  years  of  his  old  age :  — 

"Laugh  at  all  that,  and  make  us  laugh,"  says  Bernis, 
developing  his  plan  ;  "  but  it  would  be  worthy  of  the  finest 


70  INTRODUCTION. 

genius  in  France  to  end  his  literary  career  by  a  work  which 
would  make  men  love  virtue,  order,  subordination,  without 
which  all  society  is  in  trouble.  Gather  up  those  traits  of 
virtue,  humanity,  and  love  for  the  general  good  which  are 
scattered  through  your  works,  and  compose  another  which 
shall  make  us  love  your  soul  as  much  as  we  admire  your 
mind.  That  is  my  prayer  for  this  new  year ;  it  is  not  above 
your  powers;  you  will  find  in  your  heart,  your  genius,  in 
your  memory,  so  well  furnished,  all  that  can  render  your 
work  a  masterpiece.  It  is  not  a  piece  of  pedantry  that  I  ask 
of  you,  nor  a  stupid  sermon,  it  is  the  work  of  a  virtuous  soul 
and  an  upright  mind." 

It  seems  to  me  that  we  grasp  in  this  passage  the  spirit 
and  meaning  of  Bernis'  correspondence  with  Voltaire,  and 
that  this  leading  desire  and  prayer  redeems  the  rather  risky 
concessions  which  the  gracious  prelate  seems  to  make  in 
other  places  to  the  allurements  of  his  correspondent.  For 
myself,  it  is  thus  that  I  like  to  read  the  writings  of  celebrated 
men,  —  drawing  from  them  all  there  is  of  best  and  most 
elevated ;  it  seems  to  me  that  this  brings  us  nearer  to  the 
truth,  even  from  the  point  of  view  of  history. 

In  explaining  why  he  so  little  regrets  the  life  of  Paris 
during  the  years  of  his  exile,  Bernis  returns  more  than  once 
to  the  idea  that  politics  have  become  too  much  an  habitual 
subject  of  conversation :  "  Men  and  women  have  to-day  in 
their  heads  the  idea  of  governing  the  State.  It  is  a  per- 
petual and  wearisome  dissertation,  for  nothing  is  so  flat  as 
superficial  politics."  He  repeats  this  thought  with  grace 
and  renewed  vigour,  summing  up  in  a  piquant  manner  the 
various  fashions  and  infatuations  which  he  had  witnessed  in 
his  youth.  "  As  regards  Paris  (1762),  I  do  not  desire  to  live 
there  until  conversation  is  better,  less  passionate,  less  polit- 
ical. You  have  seen  in  our  day  how  all  the  women  had 


INTRODUCTION.  71 

their  witty  man,  then  their  geometrician,  then  their  Abbe* 
Nollet ;  now  I  am  told  they  all  have  their  statesman,  their 
politician,  their  agriculturist,  their  Due  de  Sully.  You  feel 
how  wearisome  and  useless  all  that  is ;  so  I  await  without 
impatience  the  day  when  good  company  shall  resume  its 
ancient  rights ;  for  I  find  myself  quite  out  of  place  among 
all  these  modern  little  Machiavellians." 

Bernis  never  returned  to  live  in  Paris.  What  would  he 
have  said  on  the  approaches  of  '89  ?  What  would  he 
have  said  later?  But  he  has  the  merit  of  having  been 
among  the  first  to  feel  and  point  out  that  which  was  corrupt- 
ing the  witty,  elegant,  and  lively  taste,  and  the  original 
gaiety  of  our  nation. 

We  have  now  seen  enough  to  know  what  to.  think  of 
Bernis  as  to  intellect  and  judgment.  I  am  therefore  sur- 
prised to  see  with  what  indifference,  with  what  a  tone  of 
superiority,  writers  who  are  more  or  less  historians  have 
spoken  of  him  when  they  meet  him  as  a  witness  and 
diplomatic  confidant  of  the  great  affairs  of  Eome.  I  have 
read  with  care  the  principal  works  in  which  he  is  mentioned 
as  cardinal-member  of  the  Conclave,  in  1769,  and  afterwards 
as  ambassador  to  Eome  for  more  than  twenty  years.  These 
works,  which  contain  fragments,  and  even  series  of  letters 
and  despatches  from  Bernis,  during  this  last  half  of  his  life 
are :  "  History  of  the  Fall  of  the  Jesuits,"  by  Comte  Alexis 
Saint-Priest ;  "  Clement  XIY.  and  the  Jesuits,"  by  M.  Cre'- 
tineau- Joly ;  "  History  of  the  Pontificate  of  Clement  XIV., " 
by  Pere  Theiner;  "History  of  the  Pontiffs  Clement  XIV. 
and  Pius  VI.,"  by  M.  Artaud.  These  various  works,  which 
I  am  far  from  putting  on  the  same  line,  and  the  last  of 
which  is  worthy  of  very  little  esteem,  have  this  in  common, 
that  they  all  rely  at  every  moment  on  documents  emanating 
from  Bernis,  and  that  their  text  in  very  many  pages  is  made 


72  INTRODUCTION. 

up  of  them.  P£re  Theiner  is  the  writer  who,  having  under  his 
eyes  the  greater  part  of  Bernis'  despatches,  probably  from  the 
minutes  made  after  his  death  and  deposited  in  the  Vatican, 
enables  us  to-day  to  form  the  best  grounded  and  most  com- 
plete judgment  on  them.  I  shall  here  confine  myself  to 
giving  my  general  impression  on  Bernis'  line  of  conduct  in 
Eome  during  his  first  years  there,  and  in  that  famous  nego- 
tiation for  the  suppression  of  the  Jesuits  in  which  he  took 
much  part. 

Bernis  arrived  at  Eome  in  March,  1769,  and  entered  the 
Conclave,  which  had  then  been  open  for  a  month.  He  had 
not  at  first  the  leading  influence  which  had  been  expected, 
and  on  which  he  had  been  congratulated.  He  had  his 
apprenticeship  to  make  ;  he  had  prejudices  to  overcome.  He, 
who  was  soon  to  acclimatize  himself  so  well  in  Kome,  to  es- 
pouse its  habits,  and  feel  and  contribute  to  its  noble  hospitality, 
was  at  first  severe,  even  to  injustice  against  his  colleagues,  the 
Princes  of  the  Church,  and  towards  the  Eoman  people  in 
general.  His  letters  to  the  Marquis  d'Aubeterre,  ambassador 
from  France  before  him  (letters  which  have  been  partly 
published  and  give  the  bulletin  and  journal  of  the  Conclave), 
show  a  reverse  side  to  the  tapestry,  which,  in  all  matters,  and 
particularly  sacred  matters,  cannot  be  divulged  without  excit- 
ing some  surprise  and  a  sense  of  impropriety.  It  needs  a  very 
judicious  reader  to  correct  the  exaggerated  and  disproportioned 
impression  made  upon  the  mind  by  such  revelations;  an 
effect  greater  than  the  narrator  himself  intended  to  produce. 
We  are  shown  a  thousand  indiscreet  and  rash  conjectures,  of 
which  nothing  came.  Bernis,  perceiving  in  the  last  days  of 
the  Conclave  that  Cardinal  Ganganelli  had  the  support  of  the 
Spanish  cardinals,  rallied  to  him  and  contributed  at  the  last 
moment  to  make  his  election  unanimous.  But  it  cannot  be 
said  (as  so  many  have  stated  from  courtesy,  and  as  he  allowed 


INTRODUCTION.  73 

them,  not  unwillingly,  to  do)  that  he  himself  caused  the 
election.  "  It  was  he  who  made  Pope  Clement  XIV.,  and 
who  formed  his  Council,"  says  Voltaire.  Nothing  could  be 
less  true  than  that  assertion. 

He  scarcely  knew  this  pope ;  at  first  he  distrusted  him ; 
he  believed  he  had  formal  and  mysterious  engagements  with 
Spain,  contracted  at  the  close  of  the  Conclave,  on  the  subject 
of  the  abolition  of  the  Jesuits.  It  was  not  until  later,  and 
after  more  ample  knowledge,  that  he  saw  his  mistake  on  this 
point,  and  returned  to  a  more  correct  opinion  of  the  man  and 
the  pontiff.  In  December,  1769,  Bernis,  writing  to  M.  de 
Choiseul,  says :  "  I  found  the  pope  in  good  humour  on  Mon- 
day last ;  his  gaiety  depends  on  his  health  and  the  persons 
with  whom  he  has  been  talking.  His  Holiness  is  sufficiently 
master  of  his  words,  but  not  at  all  of  his  face.  The  more 
one  sees  of  him,  the  more  one  recognizes  in  him  a  basis  of 
justice,  kind-heartedness,  humanity,  and  the  desire  to  please, 
which  makes  him  respectable  and  amiable.  I  am  persuaded 
that  after  the  affair  of  the  Jesuits  is  over  every  one  will  be 
satisfied.  He  goes  slowly,  but  he  does  not  waver."  Bernis 
never  departs  from  this  judgment  on  Ganganelli. 

As  to  the  part  that  he  himself  had  to  play  in  this  affair  of 
the  suppression  of  the  Jesuits,  which  lasted  four  years  be- 
fore it  was  consummated,  it  is  fully  related  in  the  work 
of  Pere  Theiner.  Bernis  personally  was  in  no  way  hostile  to 
the  famous  Society.  When  it  was  suppressed  in  France  he 
wrote  to  Voltaire :  "  I  do  not  believe  that  the  destruction  of 
the  Jesuits  will  be  useful  to  France.  I  think  it  would  have 
been  better  to  govern  them  properly,  without  destroying 
them." 

But  the  affair  once  undertaken,  he  regards  it  as  policy,  and 
even  as  a  necessity,  to  complete  it.  As  for  the  means,  he 
desires  and  advises  that  they  be  slow,  moderate,  as  humane, 


74  INTRODUCTION. 

and  as  conciliating  as  it  is  possible  to  make  an  action  of 
such  vigour.  So,  when  he  sees  the  Pope  delaying,  and 
constantly  opposing  delays  to  the  urgency  of  the  powers,  and 
especially  that  of  Spain,  Bernis,  though  he  thinks  these 
delays  excessive,  makes  his  Government  understand  that 
they  are  natural,  and  to  a  certain  point,  necessary. 

One  day,  at  the  beginning  of  the  negotiation,  Spain,  and 
subsequently  France,  wished  to  limit,  by  a  sort  of  ultimatum, 
the  delay  to  two  months.  "  I  own,"  writes  Bernis  to  M.  de 
Choiseul  (August,  1769),  "  that  if  I  had  been  elected  pope  I 
should  have  destroyed  the  Jesuits,  but  I  should  have  em- 
ployed two  years  in  doing  it."  Ganganelli  took  four ;  it  was 
the  same  method,  only  carried  a  little  farther.  Bernis,  aside 
from  the  rare  instants^  when  he  was  forced  to  take  the  initi- 
ative, confined  himself  to  assisting  Spain,  which  imperiously 
exacted  of  the  pope  the  suppression  of  the  Society  ;  but  while 
aiding  the  Spanish  ambassador,  he  often  strove  to  moderate 
the  harsh  summons  of  that  Court  and  to  set  aside  all  ways 
of  intimidating  the  pontiff,  at  the  risk  of  compromising  him- 
self and  seeming  lukewarm  to  his  allies.  In  thus  acting  he 
was  entirely  true  to  the  spirit  of  his  instructions  and  to  the 
bent  of  his  own  individual  nature.  He  ended  by  becoming 
between  the  pope  and  the  Spanish  ambassador  the  usual 
intermediary,  and  a  conciliator  who  was  agreeable  to  both. 
"  I  am  the  anodyne  to  each,"  he  says. 

The  summing  up  of  Bernis'  conduct  in  this  great  and  long 
affair  lies  in  those  words.  He  was  as  much  of  a  mediator 
as  was  possible  in  the  most  irritating  of  questions.  He  won 
the  esteem  and  the  affectionate  gratitude  of  Clement  XIV., 
who  treated  him  with  all  the  confidence  that  was  in  his 
nature  to  bestow,  and  with  a  distinction  which  resembled 
private  friendship.  One  day  the  pope  made  him  a  gift  of 
various  title-deeds  and  original  documents  concerning  the 


INTRODUCTION.  75 

church  at  Alby,  adding  to  them  a  brief  (letter)  in  which  he 
loaded  him  with  marks  of  honour  and  proofs  of  tenderness. 
Shortly  before  his  death  he  appointed  Bernis  Bishop  of 
Albano,  thus  treating  him  altogether  as  a  Roman  and  a  car- 
dinal of  the  papal  house.  So,  at  the  death  of  the  pontiff, 
when  irritated  passions  sought  to  wreak  vengeance  on  his 
remains,  and  the  catafalque,  placed  in  Saint-Peter's,  was  not 
safe  from  outrage  during  the  novena  of  the  obsequies,  Bernis, 
faithful  to  his  friendship  and  respect  for  the  illustrious  dead, 
kept,  at  his  own  cost,  a  guard  night  and  day  around  the 
coffin  to  preserve  the  inscriptions  and  prevent  all  scandal. 

Bernis,  full  of  authority  by  this  time  and  of  influence  in 
the  Conclave,  contributed  a  good  share  towards  the  elec- 
tion of  Pius  VI.  (February,  1775),  obtaining  the  new  pope's 
friendship  and  a  degree  more  of  confidence.  During  this 
time  he  continued  to  represent  France  at  Eome  with  dignity, 
grace,  and  magnificence.  All  travellers  who  have  spoken  of 
him  echo  this.  Mme.  de  Genlis,  who  visited  Rome  during 
these  years,  accompanying  the  Duchesse  de  Chartres,  dwells 
much  on  the  reception  the  ambassador  gave  to  her  Royal 
Highness.  "  Cardinal  de  Bernis,  to  whom  I  had  announced 
the  arrival  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Chartres,  sent  his 
nephew,  the  Chevalier  de  Bernis,  as  far  as  Terni  to  meet 
her,  with  two  carriages,  one  magnificent  to  bring  her  to 
Rome,  the  other  supplied  with  an  excellent  dinner.  The 
cardinal  received  us  with  a  grace  of  which  nothing  can  give 
the  idea.  He  was  then  in  his  sixty-sixth  year  [he  was  not 
so  old],  in  very  good  health,  with  a  face  of  great  freshness. 
In  him  there  was  a  mixture  of  bonhomie  and  shrewdness, 
nobleness  and  simplicity,  which  made  him  the  most  agree- 
able man  that  I  have  ever  known.  I  have  never  seen  a 
magnificence  that  surpassed  his."  After  various  details  on 
which  she  dwells  with  pleasure,  and  which  prove  to  what 


76  INTRODUCTION. 

point  the  splendid  host  knew  how  to  mingle  his  pomp  and 
his  Koman  lavishness  with  that  French  quality  called  pre- 
cision, Mme.  de  Genlis  adds :  "  Cardinal  de  Bernis  gave 
Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Chartres  magnificent  conversaziones, 
that  is  to  say,  assemblies  of  two  or  three  thousand  guests. 
They  called  him  <  King  of  Eome,'  and  such  he  was,  in  fact, 
through  his  magnificence  and  the  esteem  and  consideration 
which  he  enjoyed." 

Cardinal  de  Bernis  speaks  of  himself  less  emphatically ; 
and  he  tries  sometimes  to  excuse  the  grandeur  of  the  es- 
tablishment. "  I  keep,"  he  says,  "  the  inn  of  France  in  the 
public  square  of  Europe."  He  had  his  palace  on  the  Corso, 
where  he  held  his  Court,  and  his  house  at  Albano  for  the 
villegiatura.  Show  with  him  was  only  external.  "  He  has," 
says  President  Dupaty,  "  the  readiest  welcome,  the  most 
equable  intercourse."  The  character  of  his  politeness  was 
easy  and  graded,  just  as  his  mind  seemed,  towards  the  last, 
more  gentle  and  reposeful  than  brilliant. 

The  events  of  the  Eevolution  came  to  put  his  firmness 
to  the  proof.  He  saw  this  almost  royal  opulence,  which  he 
had  enjoyed  for  nearly  twenty  years,  and  which  he  used 
with  a  truly  august  liberality,  escape  him  suddenly,  and 
poverty  return  when  he  was  sixty-six  years  old;  he  con- 
tinued the  same  man.  "  When  turned  of  sixty-six  years  of 
age,"  he  says,  "  we  ought  not  to  fear  poverty  —  only  this, 
that  we  may  not  fully  do  our  duty."  I  have  already  quoted 
many  of  his  noble  sayings.  He  understood  the  question 
posed  by  the  Constituent  Assembly  to  its  fullest  extent,  and, 
forestalling,  as  early  as  November,  1790,  the  hour  of  the 
"  Concordat,"  he  says  :  "  If  men  really  loved  Good,  peace, 
and  order,  if  they  were  attached  to  religion,  which  alone  is 
the  support  of  all  authority  and  of  all  forms  of  government,  no 
pope  would  ever  be  so  drawn  towards  conciliation  as  this 


INTRODUCTION.  77 

one.  But  if  the  purpose  is  to  destroy  all  and  make  a  new 
religion,  we  shall  meet  with  difficulties  greater  than  we 
know.  The  deep  roots  of  religion  are  not  to  be  torn  so 
easily  out  of  the  hearts  and  minds  of  a  great  kingdom." 

It  is  on  these  last  words  that  we  like  to  rest  with  Bernis. 
The  circle  of  his  life  is  accomplished,  and  he  shows  as  he 
ends  it  that  his  amiable,  prudent,  and  fine  qualities,  joined  to 
delicacy  of  heart,  may  become  virtues. 

On  the  5th  of  January,  1791,  being  summoned  to  take  the 
oath  exacted  by  the  new  Constitution,  he  sends  it,  adding 
an  interpretative  and  restrictive  clause.  Informed  that  the 
National  Assembly  required  the  oath  to  be  taken  as  it  was, 
pure  and  simple,  and  warned  that  he  exposed  himself  to  be 
recalled  if  he  persisted  in  his  restriction,  he  answered, 
February  22  :  "  Conscience  and  honour  do  not  permit  me  to 
sign  without  modification  an  oath  which  obliges  me  to 
defend  the  new  Constitution,  of  which  the  destruction  of  the 
ancient  discipline  of  the  Church  is  an  essential  feature." 
The  recall  was  given. 

Thus  was  closed  his  long  and  honourable  diplomatic 
career.  He  died  in  Eome,  November,  1794,  in  his  eightieth 
year.  After  the  loss  of  his  salary  in  France,  he  subsisted 
on  a  pension  granted  to  him  by  the  Court  of  Spain.  Happy, 
nevertheless ;  and  favoured  to  the  last  in  being  able  by  his 
final  sacrifices  to  redeem  and  expiate,  in  a  way,  the  laxity  of 
his  early  life ;  confessing  a  religion  of  poverty  through  salutary 
adversity,  and  proving  that  there  was  in  him,  under  all 
forms,  both  amiable  and  dignified,  a  sincere  foundation  of 
human  and  Christian  generosity. 


TBANSLATOB'S  NOTE. 

THE  following  volumes  contain  Cardinal  de  Bernis'  own 
Memoirs,  and  the  letters  to  M.  de  Choiseul,  Mme.  de  Pom- 
padour, and  Louis  XY.  to  which  Sainte-Beuve  refers.  At  the 
time  the  latter  wrote  his  essay  (1853)  the  Memoirs  were  not 
published,  and  he  appears  not  to  have  known  of  them.  M. 
Fre'de'ric  Masson,  librarian  to  the  ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
obtained  them  from  the  family  of  Cardinal  de  Bernis  and 
first  published  them,  together  with  the  letters  above  named, 
in  1878.  From  that  edition  this  translation  is  made.1 

The  following  is  M.  Masson's  account  of  these  documents : 

"  The  Memoirs,  the  existence  of  which  was  known  and 
affirmed  by  the  editor  of  the  Paris-Duverney  letters  (1790),  by 
the  Chevalier  d'Azara  (1795),  by  M.  Albert  de  Boys  (1843), 
and  lastly  by  the  Due  de  Broglie  (1870),  but  of  which  no 
extracts  have  been  printed  up  to  the  present  time,  are  now 
intrusted  to  me  by  the  Bernis  family,  on  the  testimony 
which  M.  P.  Fougere,  minister  plenipotentiary  and  director 
of  the  Archives  of  Foreign  Affairs  was  good  enough  to  give 
of  me.  General  the  Vicomte  de  Bernis  had  long  determined 
to  make  this  publication.  He  had  prepared  the  principal 
elements  of  it,  and  I  have  only  annotated  and  put  in  order 
the  materials  he  had  collected.  .  .  . 

"  The  manuscript  of  the  Memoirs  is  not  in  the  handwriting 

1  "  Memoires  et  Lettres  de  Franfois-Joachim  de  Saint-Pierre,  Cardinal  de 
Bernis.  Publics  avec  autorization  de  sa  famille,  d'apres  les  manuscrits 
inedits ;  par  Frederic  Masson ;  Bibliothecaire  du  Ministere  des  Affaires 
Etrangeres."  2  vols.  Paris.  E.  Plon  et  Cie.  1878. 


80  TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE. 

of  the  Cardinal.  It  was  dictated  by  him  to  his  niece,  the 
Marquise  du  Puy-Montbrun,  and  is  entirely  written  by  her. 
For  a  century,  except  for  a  time  when  it  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  Chevalier  d'Azara,  editor  of  '  Eeligion  Avenged '  and  of 
the  Correspondence  between  Voltaire  and  Bernis,  it  has  been 
steadily  in  the  possession  of  the  Bernis  family.  Its  authen- 
ticity is  therefore,  a  priori,  indisputable ;  and  if  it  were  nec- 
essary to  find  proofs  a  posteriori,  the  text  of  the  Memoirs 
offers  others  no  less  positive. 

"  As  for  the  series  of  private  letters  addressed  by  Bernis  to 
the  king,  to  the  Marquise  de  Pompadour,  and  to  the  Due  de 
Choiseul-Stainville,  their  authenticity  is  no  less  incontestable. 
In  1825  M.  de  Barante  revealed  the  existence  of  these  letters 
hi  the  *  Kevue  Frangaise/  and  gave  some  fragments  of  them. 
In  1853  Sainte-Beuve  drew  from  them  one  of  his  brilliant 
articles.  And,  lastly,  in  1873  M.  Aubertin  used  them  in  a 
volume  entitled  'L'Esprit  public  au  XVIIIme  Siecle.'  It 
was,  doubtless,  from  a  copy  —  either  that  in  the  archives  of 
the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs,  or  that  in  the  possession  of 
the  Chancellor  Pasquier  —  that  all  these  writers  drew  their 
information.  At  first,  I  had  myself  the  manuscripts  of  the 
Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs ;  but  hearing  that  the  Due  de 
Mouchy  possessed  certain  interesting  papers  on  Cardinal  de 
Bernis,  I  addressed  myself  to  him,  and  he  was  good  enough 
to  confide  to  me  the  precious  volume  containing  all  the  letters 
written  by  Bernis  and  the  letter  to  him  of  Louis  XV.  It  is 
from  these  autograph  documents  that  I  have  been  permitted 
to  collate  the  present  edition." 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  the  Memoirs,  published 
twenty-five  years  after  the  date  of  Sainte-Beuve's  essay, 
confirm  the  analysis  therein  made  of  Bernis'  character. 


MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS 

OF 

FRANCOIS-JOACHIM  DE  PIERRE, 
CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS. 


LETTER 

WEITTEN  TO  MY  NIECE,  THE  MARQUISE  DU 
PUY-MONTBEUN. 

I  CHOOSE  you  for  my  secretary,  my  dear  niece,  and  almost 
for  my  confessor ;  I  could  not  give  you  a  greater  mark  of 
friendship  and  esteem,  if  it  be  true  that  unlimited  confidence 
is  the  proof  of  both. 

I  will  now  explain  to  you  the  intention  of  these  Memoirs. 
It  is  natural  to  men  to  leave  behind  them  a  monument  of 
their  existence ;  they  also  feel  a  certain  sweetness  in  recall- 
ing the  principal  events  of  their  lives ;  self-love  finds  its 
gratification  in  all  that;  and  I  shall  not  deny  that  I  am 
susceptible  up  to  a  certain  point  of  a  weakness  so  natural : 
but  as  I  do  not  wish  to  hide  from  you  my  most  secret 
thoughts  or  my  inmost  feelings,  I  shall  tell  you  in  all  sin- 
cerity that  the  chimera  of  making  myself  talked  of  after  my 
death  is  not  the  object  I  propose  to  myself  in  dictating  to  you 
the  Memoirs  of  my  life.  My  intention  and  my  most  posi- 
tive orders  are  that  this  work  shall  not  see  the  light,  even 

VOL.    I. —    6 


82  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF 

after  my  death.  You  will  regard  that  clause  as  the  most 
explicit  article  in  my  will.  You  must  therefore  avoid  with 
the  greatest  care  allowing  any  one  to  take  a  copy  of  this  me- 
moir ;  and  you  must  confide  the  trust  after  you  to  safe  and 
tried  hands.  You  will  perceive  in  the  course  of  the  work 
the  essential  motives  which  make,  for  me  as  well  as  for  you, 
this  reserve  into  a  law.  I  shall  tell  the  truth ;  and  truth 
cannot  be  shown  in  its  nudity  without  great  impropriety. 

My  design  in  telling  you  the  history  of  my  life  is  to  in- 
struct you  and  correct  myself,  to  confirm  me  in  principles 
of  which  I  have  experienced  the  good,  to  strengthen  me 
against  ideas  whose  false  gleams  have  dazzled  or  led  me 
astray,  and  to  gather  from  my  past  life  useful  instructions 
for  the  future.  The  pleasure  of  distracting  and  occupying 
my  mind  at  a  time  when  I  am  deprived  of  work  enters  for 
much,  I  acknowledge,  in  this  employment;  not  to  speak 
of  the  interest  that  I  take  in  your  children.  If  they  are 
destined  to  lead  a  private  life,  they  will  find  in  the  first 
periods  of  mine  examples  to  follow  and  faults  to  avoid.  If, 
on  the  contrary,  Providence  calls  them  to  great  offices,  they 
will  see  what  the  force  of  circumstances  can  do  within  the 
space  of  ten  years  to  lift  men  up  and  throw  them  down; 
they  will  learn  to  count  duty  as  everything  and  fortune  as 
nothing;  or,  perhaps,  after  seeing  the  faults  I  committed 
as  a  courtier,  they  may  learn  how  to  conciliate  with  more 
art  than  I  did  the  obligations  of  a  minister  with  the  neces- 
sity of  pleasing  the  Court.  That  art  is  difficult,  I  own ;  the 
hand  must  be  light  indeed  which  can  practise  it  in  such  a 
manner  that  faithfulness  and  integrity  shall  not  receive 
the  slightest  shock. 

I  shall  divide  these  Memoirs  into  three  parts.  The  first 
will  contain  the  events  of  my  private  life.  In  the  second 
I  shall  treat  of  the  most  remarkable  epoch  of  my  life;  I 


CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  83 

mean  that  in  which  I  devoted  myself  to  public  affairs.  The 
third  part  will  contain  my  views  and  principles,  with  a  few 
.political  memoranda,  the  most  important  of  which  and  the 
most  secret  being  retained  in  the  archives  of  the  Foreign 
Affairs.  Any  one  may  compose,  if  he  likes,  a  fourth  part 
from  my  literary  works.  The  first  amusements  of  my  youth 
being  no  longer  suited  to  the  serious  profession  I  have 
embraced  will  be  arranged  under  the  dates  at  which  they 
were  written,  in  order  that  persons  may  not  attribute  un- 
justly (as  they  frequently  do)  to  the  Cardinal  what  belonged 
to  the  Comte  de  Bernis  in  his  earliest  youth,  before  he 
bound  himself  in  any  manner  to  the  Church  or  the  ministry. 

I  shall  write  in  chapters,  because  this  form  is  more  con- 
venient l  and  the  facts  can  be  more  easily  classed  and  with 
better  order ;  besides  which,  as  I  do  not  wish  to  fatigue  my 
mind  or  my  memory  by  this  method,  I  shall  not  be  a  slave 
to  exact  chronological  order,  nor  to  the  thread  of  a  too 
connected  narrative.  I  shall  study  myself  chiefly  to  make 
you  understand  my  mind  and  that  of  the  epoch  in  which 
I  have  lived.  I  shall  paint  my  soul  and  that  of  others,  less 
concerned  to  retrace  events  than  to  develop  their  causes  and 
their  impulse. 

In  regard  to  style :  do  not  expect  me  to  employ  much  art ; 
it  is  long  since  I  have  renounced  academic  adornment. 
Assuredly,  I  do  not  despise  eloquence,  but  I  do  not  place  it 
in  the  symmetry  of  words:  we  lose  much  time  in  writing 
with  a  certain  elegance ;  it  is  easier,  shorter,  and  perhaps 
more  agreeable  to  express  one's  thoughts  very  simply. 

Finally,  you  must  not  be  scandalized  when  I  say  good 
of  myself;  the  foundation  of  my  nature  is  modesty,  but  I 

1  As  many  of  these  chapters  are  very  short,  some  of  them  not  more 
than  two  or  three  pages  and  therefore  very  wasteful  of  space,  several  are 
put  together  in  the  following  translation.  —  TR, 


84     MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS. 

do  not  believe  I  fail  in  it  by  thinking  of  myself  as  favour- 
ably as  a  judge  would  do  if  he  read  to  the  bottom  of  my 
heart. 

Now  that  is  enough  to  make  you  understand  the  object 
of  these  Memoirs.  In  choosing  you,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
three,  to  write  them  at  my  dictation,  I  give,  as  I  believe, 
great  praise  to  your  manner  of  thinking  and  to  your 
character. 


MEMOIRS. 


PART  FIRST. 
I. 

1715-1735.  —  My  Birth.  —  Childhood.  —  Education.  —  My  Coming  to  Paris. 
—  Entrance  at  the  Seminary.  —  My  Journey  to  Languedoc.  —  Return 
to  Paris  in  1735. 

I  WAS  born,  May  22, 1715,  in  the  chateau  de  Saint-Marcel, 
on  the  Ardeche,  in  Vivarais.  The  seigneurie  of  that  little  town 
has  belonged  to  my  family  for  four  hundred  years.  It  is  a 
good  title  of  nobility ;  it  is  as  indisputable  as  the  possession, 
never  interrupted,  of  the  same  fief.  The  magistracy  of  this 
estate  was  formerly  much  divided.  In  other  days  Saint- 
Marcel  was  the  residence  of  various  seigneurs,  some  of  whom 
were  considerable,  as  much  by  their  birth  as  from  their 
possessions.  To-day  the  Marquis  de  Bernis,  my  brother, 
is  the  sole  possessor  of  the  estate,  which,  from  its  extent  and 
the  beauty  of  its  scenery,  is  one  of  the  principal  in  the 
Vivarais.  The  king,  by  letters-patent,  has  erected  this 
estate  into  a  marquisate  under  the  name  of  Pierre-Bernis. 

My  family  name  (for  only  princes  of  the  blood-royal 
should  say  "  house ")  is  de  Pierre,  Latin  Petri.  The  name 
is  very  ancient  in  the  province  of  Languedoc;  it  is  cited 
with  distinction  in  the  history  of  the  first  crusade.  The 
name  Bernis  has  been  borne  for  four  centuries  by  the 
younger  sons  of  the  family,  who  have  never  failed  to  in- 
clude in  their  titles  the  rank  of  seigneurs  of  this  estate, 


86  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

which  is  situated  between  Nlmes  and  Lunel.  This  care  on 
their  part  shows  the  attention  they  paid  to  preserving  their 
rights  in  this  possession,  which  entered  the  family  of  their 
ancestors  in  1245  through  a  marriage. 

But  I  do  not  pretend  to  make  our  genealogy  here ;  I  have 
known,  all  my  life,  how  to  appreciate,  better  than  others, 
the  fortuitous  merit  of  birth.  I  shall  have  occasion,  in  the 
course  of  these  Memoirs,  to  express  myself  on  what  concerns 
nobility.  Those  of  you  who  wish  to  know  more  about  our 
origin  have  only  to  read  the  article  in  More'ri  concerning 
me ;  it  is  done  with  simplicity  and  truth ;  and  is  confirmed 
by  indisputable  title-deeds.  I  snail  content  myself  by 
saying  here,  for  the  honour  of  my  race,  that  the  heads  of  our 
family  were  all  great  seigneurs,  and  the  younger  sons,  from 
whom  I  descend,  have  been  distinguished  by  their  fidelity  to 
their  princes,  their  attachment  to  the  Catholic  religion,  their 
military  services,  and  by  the  most  scrupulous  integrity.  My 
branch,  in  particular,  has  a  considerable  advantage  in  never 
having  injured  by  any  bad  alliance  the  purity  of  its  origin. 
My  paternal  grandmother  was  so  well-born  a  damoisel  that 
she  gave  me  a  double  descent  from  the  royal  house,  and 
from  alliances  with  the  greatest  families  in  Europe.  All 
this  is  amply  set  forth  in  my  proofs  for  the  Order  of  the 
Saint-Esprit. 

My  father,  who  was  born  with  all  the  advantages  that 
usually  lead  a  gentleman  to  great  fortune,  for  want  of 
prudence  and  patience  never  derived  any  benefit  from  twenty 
years'  service.  Born  for  war  and  for  society,  he  had  the 
barren  reputation  of  being  a  good  officer  and  an  agreeable 
man.  In  1704  he  asked  for  a  regiment  of  cavalry,  and  they 
offered  him  one  of  infantry;  he  refused  it  and  left  the 
service,  after  having  squandered  about  a  hundred  thousand 
crowns. 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  87 

My  mother,  Elisabeth  du  Chastel  de  Condres,  who  had 
been  married  as  an  heiress,  on  account  of  the  disinheriting 
of  a  brother,  was  reduced  to  a  very  small  patrimony  by  the 
discovery  of  an  entail  which  settled  all  the  property  of  her 
family  on  the  males.  She  therefore  brought  my  father  only 
a  small  estate,  a  very  ancient  name,  fine  alliances,  much 
intelligence  and  virtue,  a  taste  for  letters,  but  little  talent  to 
re-establish  the  affairs  of  a  household.  My  father,  who 
advised  his  friends  well,  always  took  the  worst  counsels  for 
himself ;  he  had  abandoned  for  a  small  sum  in  ready  money, 
(which,  by  the  way,  he  valued  highly)  his  assured  rights  to 
the  considerable  property  of  the  Vicomtes  Gourdon  and  de 
Blou-Laval.  Eeduced  to  a  very  small  income  he  kept  his 
gaiety,  and  never  lost  the  tone  of  society  in  his  retirement. 
Gay  with  others,  ill-humoured  at  home,  he  treated  his 
daughters  harshly,  made  an  effort  to  educate  his  two  sons, 
but  refused  to  buy  for  the  eldest  a  suitable  employment 
in  the  army.  This  species  of  inhumanity  broke  my  brother's 
neck,  for  he  was  born  with  all  the  talents  necessary  for  war, 
with  a  mind  and  a  strength  of  body  which  would  have  done 
him  even  more  honour  in  the  days  of  chivalry  than  in  our 
age.  He  could  have  attained  to  everything. 

My  sisters  were  not  better  treated  than  my  brother.  The 
eldest,  condemned  by  her  father  to  the  cloister,  only  escaped 
that  rigorous  sentence  by  the  charms  of  a  pleasant  face  and 
the  reputation  of  a  gentle  and  cultivated  mind.  These 
advantages  made  the  Marquis  de  Narbonne-Pelet,  the  head 
of  that  ancient  and  illustrious  house,  ask  her  in  marriage 
without  a  dot.  My  second  sister,  who  was  endowed  only 
with  a  good  heart,  had  the  merit  of  refusing  to  be  a  nun  when 
her  father  tried  to  compel  her  to  it ;  but  she  afterwards  took 
that  course  voluntarily  when  she  became  the  mistress  of  her 
own  fate.  As  for  me,  I  have  none  but  thanks  to  give  to  my 


88  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  I. 

father.  He  never  refused  anything  to  my  early  education ; 
and  later,  when  he  diminished  the  help  he  was  giving  me, 
I  had  found  resources  within  myself  and  was  flying  on  my 
own  wings.  I  therefore  respect  and  cherish  my  father's 
memory;  my  supreme  happiness  would  be  to  still  have 
him  with  me,  to  share  with  him  the  fortune  he  never 
doubted  I  should  attain,  and  thus  enjoy  the  society  of  the 
gayest,  most  elequent  man  and  the  best  company  I  have 
ever  met,  in  Paris,  at  Court,  or  in  foreign  lands. 

My  birth  nearly  cost  my  mother  her  life,  and  I  have  often 
attributed,  with  some  appearance  of  reason,  the  infirmities 
under  which]!  have  suffered  to  the  long  labour  of  her  confine- 
ment. Being  the  younger  son,  I  was  nursed  in  the  country 
in  a  rustic  cottage  which  I  have  often  seen  again  with  pleas- 
ure. My  nurse,  who  was  a  good  farmer's  wife,  had  but  little 
milk  and  she  soon  accustomed  me  to  eat  cabbage-soup  and 
lard ;  and  perhaps  I  owe  to  that  coarse  food  the  strength  of 
my  organs  which  have  so  often  resisted  violent  maladies. 
My  intelligence  was  not  long  in  developing.  If  the  facul- 
ties of  memory  are  a  proof  of  it,  I  can  remember  quite  dis- 
tinctly the  time  I  was  weaned ;  and  my  first  sensation  was 
the  astonishment  produced  in  me  by  the  shadow  of  bodies  ; 
I  looked,  without  fear  but  with  intense  surprise,  at  those 
phantoms  which  appeared  in  the  light  against  the  wall  of 
my  room  and  grew  shorter  and  longer  in  a  manner  so  excit- 
ing to  my  curiosity,  but  which  I  could  not  comprehend.  It 
might  not  be  useless  to  the  history  of  the  human  mind  to 
collect  with  more  care  than  has  yet  been  done  the  first  sen- 
sations and  dawning  ideas  of  childhood.  As  soon  as  I  could 
walk  and  turn  my  eyes  above  and  below  and  around  me, 
nothing  struck  me  more  than  the  spectacle  of  nature ;  I  never 
wearied  of  looking  at  the  sky  and  the  stars ;  of  examining 
the  changes  that  took  place  in  the  air;  of  following  the 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  89 

movement  of  the  clouds  and  admiring  the  colours  painted  on 
them ;  the  rocks,  brooks,  and  trees  attracted  my  attention  no 
less.  I  examined,  not  with  the  eyes  of  a  naturalist  but  with 
those  of  a  painter,  all  insects  and  plants.  I  would  often  pass 
hours  in  watching  the  different  spectacles  of  nature.  The 
observations  I  made  in  my  childhood  were  so  impressed  upon 
my  memory  that  when  I  cultivated  poetry  I  found  I  had  more 
talent  and  foundation  than  others  for  painting  nature  in  true 
and  sensitive  colours. 

The  distinctive  character  of  my  mind  has  always  been  re- 
flection ;  I  reflected  as  soon  as  I  could  think.  I  do  not  mean 
that  I  was  not  a  child  with  others  of  my  age ;  but  from  the 
time  I  was  six  years  old  I  preferred  to  all  amusements  the 
pleasure  of  listening  to  people  who  talked  well ;  my  father 
was  often  surprised  that  I  stayed  with  him  when  I  might 
have  been  frolicking  with  my  comrades.  This  singularity 
began  to  give  me  a  reputation  for  intelligence,  which  was 
increased  by  reflections  which  were  thought  beyond  my  years. 
I  shall  not  repeat  here  the  clever  sayings  of  my  childhood ; 
I  thought  them  dull  and  insipid  when  repeated  to  me ;  but 
it  is  nevertheless  true  that  a  child  is  beyond  others  when  he 
has  more  ideas  than  those  of  his  age. 

My  mother,  who  was  very  pious,  and  had  enough  intelli- 
gence to  teach  virtue  without  mingling  it  with  pettiness,  im- 
pressed upon  me  early  a  love  and  fear  of  God ;  those  feelings 
have  never  been  effaced.  I  have  never  loved  any  thing  so 
much  as  God,  although  in  my  youth  I  loved  many  things  very 
keenly  and  even  madly.  I  owe,  therefore,  to  my  mother  a 
love  of  religion,  and  to  my  father,  who  was  not  pious  but  who 
had  a  lofty  soul,  nobility  of  sentiments  and  attachment  to 
Honour. 

I  was  destined  to  be  a  Knight  of  Malta.  That  military 
career,  to  which  I  was  vowed  from  my  cradle,  had  turned  all 


90  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHJLP.  i. 

my  inclinations  to  the  side  of  war.  This  taste  of  my  child- 
hood is  not  entirely  destroyed ;  I  have  often  found  in  my 
mind  many  views  relating  to  the  military  art,  and  I  have 
sometimes  regretted  that  it  was  no  longer  the  fashion  to  put 
cardinals  at  the  head  of  armies. 

I  shall  finish  this  account  of  my  childhood  by  two  reflec- 
tions which  thousands  of  people  have  made,  hut  which  are 
none  the  less  important.  I  was  born  with  much  courage, 
intelligence,  and  bodily  strength,  yet  the  trumpery  tales  of 
nurses  and  chambermaids  inspired  me  with  a  ridiculous 
terror  of  ghosts  and  witches.  For  twenty  years  of  my  life  I 
was  more  afraid  of  the  dead  than  of  the  living.  Neither 
reason  nor  instruction  would  alone  have  sufficed  to  calm 
this  ridiculous  but  mechanical  fear.  I  owe  the  cure  of  this 
malady  to  an  adventure  which  will  find  its  place  later,  if  I 
happen  to  think  of  it. 

The  second  reflection  that  I  wish  to  make  is  that  nothing 
is  so  dangerous  for  morals  and  perhaps  for  health  as  to  leave 
children  too  long  under  the  care  of  chambermaids,  or  even 
of  young  ladies  brought  up  in  the  chateaux.  I  will  add  that 
the  best  among  them  are  not  always  the  least  dangerous. 
They  dare  with  a  child  that  which  they  would  be  ashamed 
to  risk  with  a  young  man.  I  had  need  of  all  the  sentiments 
of  piety  which  my  mother  implanted  in  my  soul  to  preserve 
my  youth  from  great  corruption. 

My  mother  gave  me  the  first  instructions  in  Christianity, 
and  the  first  notions  of  reading  and  writing.  But  they  soon 
gave  my  brother  and  me  a  tutor,  a  worthy  and  well-informed 
man.  I  learned  from  him  the  elements  of  the  Latin  language, 
and  to  him  I  owe  the  taste  I  have  always  kept  for  reading 
good  books.  As  soon  as  I  could  read  and  pronounce,  the 
cadence  and  harmony  of  verse  struck  my  ear;  I  lisped 
rhymes  before  I  knew  how  to  write  prose ;  they  noticed  this, 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL   DE  BEBNIS.  91 

and  they  carefully  took  away  from  me  books  of  poetry.  My 
mother,  whose  father  was  the  best  song  writer  of  his  region, 
had  rather  more  indulgence  for  my  little  talents.  I  used  to 
show  her  my  productions  secretly,  and  she  had  the  kindness 
and  patience  to  correct  them.  Her  astonishment  was  very 
great  to  find  that  my  verses  bristled  with  Gallic  words,  and 
she  could  not  understand  how  I  came  to  use  terms  that  were 
out  of  date  by  a  hundred  years.  I  took  good  care  not  to  re- 
veal the  source  of  my  erudition ;  it  was  an  old  copy  of  Konsard 
which  I  kept  hidden  under  my  bed  and  to  which  I  owed  my 
fine  knowledge.  He  was  my  first  master  in  poesy,  but  I 
proved  to  be  only  an  ungrateful  pupil,  for  I  have  carefully 
avoided  imitating  him  all  my  life.  They  said  that  I  made 
passable  verses  when  the  Infanta  of  Spain  (now  Queen  of 
Portugal)  was  sent  back  to  Madrid.  What  was  singular  in 
this  talent  so  early  shown  for  poesy  is  that  the  farther  I 
advanced  in  a  career  of  study,  the  more  my  fancy  for  versifi- 
cation weakened,  until  it  was  extinguished  altogether.  It 
did  not  wake  up  again  before  I  was  eighteen  years  old,  as 
we  shall  see  later. 

I  said  that  they  gave  me  an  honest  man  for  a  tutor.  He 
left  me  at  the  end  of  two  years  to  take  degrees  in  the 
Faculty  of  medicine  in  Paris.  This  excellent  man,  named 
Lejeune,  was  replaced  by  a  Seminarist,  whose  ill-directed 
piety  had  heated  a  head  already  narrowed  by  nature  and 
education.  This  worthy  personage  made  me  fast  on  bread 
and  water  on  the  eve  of  all  the  feast-days,  compelled  me  to 
leave  half  my  dinner  for  my  guardian  angel,  made  me  say 
my  prayers  four  times  a  day  with  my  knees  on  iron  spikes, 
ordered  me  to  wear  bracelets  of  the  same  metal  also  spiked, 
chastised  me,  not  to  correct  me,  but  to  feed  me  with  the 
spirit  of  repentance.  It  would  have  been  a  great  crime  to 
complain,  a  crime  which  would  have  been  very  severely 


92  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

punished.  My  parents  did  not  know  of  my  hidden  auster- 
ities until  they  saw  the  abscesses  which  came  on  my  knees 
and  wrists.  They  dismissed  the  pious  fanatic,  and  I  passed 
successively  under  three  or  four  preceptors,  ignorant,  brutal, 
or  licentious.  I  here  warn  fathers  and  mothers  that  they 
ought  to  forbid  the  tutors  of  their  sons  to  correct  them  with 
the  whip  or  discipline  [whip  made  of  small  chains]. 

Without  being  more  of  a  rogue  than  other  boys,  I  passed 
three  years  under  the  rod.  Anger,  at  last,  got  the  better  of 
me,  and  after  vainly  meditating  various  projects  of  vengeance, 
my  head  being  full  of  the  "Comte  de  Gabalis,"  a  book 
that  I  believed  to  be  full  of  all  the  mysteries  of  the  cabala, 
I  resolved  to  vow  myself  to  the  powers  of  hell,  to  become 
a  great  magician,  and  transform  my  unworthy  tutor  into  a 
stone  or  a  tree;  and  with  this  resolution  I  rose  one  morn- 
ing at  four  o'clock  and  went  into  a  solitary  place  at  day- 
break; there  I  made  my  invocations  and  conjurations,  but 
all  to  no  purpose.  Nothing  appeared.  Then,  believing  that 
the  powers  of  darkness  might  appear  to  one  more  readily  in 
obscurity,  I  went  down  into  a  cellar,  not  without  some  fear. 
My  trepidation  became  terror  when,  having  begun  my  invo- 
cation in  a  loud  voice,  there  issued  from  beneath  the  casks 
a  big  black  cat,  which  rushed,  miauling,  between  my  legs, 
and  which  I  took  to  be  the  devil.  My  hair  stood  on  end 
and  I  fled  hastily,  believing  that  all  hell  was  after  me. 
This  adventure  made  me  reflect.  Eemorse  followed  reflec- 
tion ;  I  confessed  first  to  my  mother,  who  did  not  fail  to 
frighten  me  with  the  enormity  of  my  crime;  she  was  too 
well  educated,  however,  not  to  know  how  to  appreciate  it. 
I  was  only  seven  years  old;  but  they  made  me  confess  to 
the  grand-vicar,  and  I  was  absolved.  Since  then  I  have  not 
had  much  taste  for  sorcery. 

Disgusted  with  domestic  education,  my  father  resolved  to 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  93 

send  me  to  the  Barnabite  school  in  the  Bourg-Saint-Ande'ol, 
in  Vivarais,  a  little  town  known  for  some  very  remarkable 
antiquities.  Here  I  cannot  dispense  with  making  one  ob- 
servation. The  profession  of  tutor  ought  to  be  more  honoured, 
for  it  is  one  of  the  most  important ;  but  those  who  fill  that 
post  are,  at  best,  regarded  as  the  head  servants  of  the 
household;  their  wages  being  very  paltry,  their  rewards 
none  at  all  or  very  uncertain,  how  can  you  find  on  such 
terms  instructors  who  are  capable  of  forming  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  young  men  ?  Domestic  education  has  other  draw- 
backs ;  it  nourishes  vanity  in  children ;  they  think  them- 
selves superior  in  rank  because  they  hear  their  parents  and 
their  valets  say  so ;  their  ideas  are  narrowed  to  the  conver- 
sations of  their  fathers  and  mothers.  In  a  word,  I  prefer 
school  education  to  family  education,  because  in  schools  boys 
are  equally  corrected  by  the  lessons  of  their  superiors  and  by 
their  comrades ;  the  latter  never  allow  an  absurdity  to  pass, 
nor  any  false  pretence ;  they  accustom  each  other  to  recipro- 
cal consideration,  and  prepare  the  mind  to  submit  to  different 
tones,  and  adapt  itself  to  diversities  of  temper,  usages,  and 
characters.  It  is  said  that  in  schools  morals  are  not  in  such 
safety  as  in  private  houses ;  I  think  that  opinion  is  inaccu- 
rate ;  valets  and  servant-women  are  more  to  be  feared  than 
comrades,  because  they  are  less  watched.  I  can  cite  myself 
as  an  example:  I  kept,  throughout  my  schools  and  semi- 
naries, my  morals  very  pure,  together  with  great  piety  until 
my  entrance  into  the  world. 

So  I  was  sent  to  the  Barnabite  school  when  I  was  ten 
years  old.  I  was  always  first  in  my  class,  and  I  must  say, 
more  to  my  shame  than  my  praise,  that  I  employed,  in  order 
to  succeed,  a  method  that  I  have  since  made  use  of  in  more 
important  ways.  This  method  gratified  and  fed  a  certain 
stratum  of  laziness,  self-love,  and  rivalry,  all  of  which  are 


94  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

in  my  character.  Every  time  that  in  my  studies  I  found 
equals,  rivals,  and  superiors,  I  worked  without  relaxing, 
night  and  day,  until  I  managed  to  put  them  behind  me; 
then,  satisfied  to  have  the  first  place,  I  contented  myself 
by  keeping  it  with  easy  work,  without  caring  to  deserve 
a  better. 

I  made  good  studies  at  the  Barnabites ;  and  one  day  when 
I  did  not  know  how  to  fill  a  letter  I  was  writing  to  my 
father,  having  no  longer  any  hope  of  the  Cross  of  Malta, 
I  bethought  me  of  replacing  it  by  the  crozier  of  a  bishop ; 
so  I  announced  my  vocation  for  the  ecclesiastical  profession. 
My  father  answered  that  I  must  examine  it  seriously;  I 
declared  that  I  had  made  my  reflections;  then  they  put 
me  into  retreat  for  a  month  in  a  Seminary,  after  which 
I  was  tonsured,  at  twelve  years  of  age.  Eighteen  months 
later  my  father  sent  me  to  the  college  of  the  Jesuits  in 
Paris;  as  will  presently  be  seen. 

I  said  that  my  father  had  ruined  his  affairs.  He  never- 
theless resolved  to  give  my  brother  and  myself  a  suitable 
education,  and,  to  obtain  the  means  of  doing  so,  he  took  the 
course  of  writing  to  Cardinal  de  Fleury,  with  whom  he  had 
been  very  intimate  in  his  youth,  though  he  had  little 
followed  up  the  intimacy  after  the  cardinal  had  become 
minister.  My  father  wrote  with  some  dignity  ;  knowing  how 
to  speak  of  poverty  without  asking  alms ;  his  letter  to  the 
cardinal  produced  more  than  he  had  hoped  for.  His  Em- 
inence replied  that  he  had  not  forgotten  the  old  friendship, 
and  remembered  the  misfortunes  that  had  come  upon  my 
father ;  he  said  that  my  father's  children  were  very  young, 
and  he  himself  too  old  to  hope  to  be  useful  to  them ;  but 
that  as  I  was  entering  the  ecclesiastical  profession,  I  must 
be  sent  to  finish  my  studies  at  the  Jesuit  college  in  Paris, 
and  thence  to  the  seminary  of  Saint-Sulpice ;  after  which, 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  95 

when  I  reached  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  would  ask  the  king 
to  give  me  an  abbey,  and  by  means  of  that  favour  I  could 
help  my  family.  In  consequence  of  this  answer  my  father 
determined  to  send  my  brother  to  the  pages  of  the  king  to 
do  his  exercises,  and  me  to  the  college  of  Louis-le-Grand. 
I  owe  my  fortune  to  this  determination.  Had  I  remained 
in  the  provinces,  I  should  have  grown  old  as  grand-vicar  of 
Viviers,  brilliant  in  the  diocese  and  unknown  to  the  rest  of 
the  world. 

My  father,  on  the  day  of  my  departure,  having  embraced 
me  without  any  outward  sign  of  tenderness,  said  to  me  these 
words,  which  engraved  themselves  on  my  soul  as  he  uttered 
them :  "  My  son,  you  are  going  into  a  world  in  which  I  have 
lived  much ;  I  shall  not  be  useless  to  you  there.  I  would 
gladly  have  taken  you  there  myself,  but  I  am  now  too  old. 
Eemember  that  in  that  world  you  will  find  many  equals  and 
a  vast  number  of  superiors.  Make  yourself  beloved  by  the 
first ;  and  never  be  familiar  with  the  others ;  respect  them,  but 
never  fawn  upon  them.  Learn  to  obey,  but  remember  that 
you  were  not  born  to  be  the  valet  of  any  man.  If  the  fear  of 
God  does  not  keep  you  from  women,  fear  at  least  to  lose 
your  health."  In  saying  these  words  he  kissed  me  again, 
and  then  saw  with  a  dry  eye  my  brother  and  myself  get  into 
the  carriage,  which  took  us  to  Paris  under  the  care  of  his 
old  valet. 

I  arrived  at  the  Jesuit  college,  in  August,  1729.  My 
expectation  was  to  enter  rhetoric  after  the  holidays.  The 
inspector  [of  school  studies],  having  examined  my  capacity, 
thought  me  not  fitted  to  enter  third.  My  self-love  was 
wounded  by  this  verdict ;  I  set  myself  to  study  with  such 
diligence,  taking  hours  from  sleep,  reading  and  writing  by 
moonlight,  that  finally,  at  the  end  of  two  months,  I  was 
allowed  to  be  again  examined  for  rhetoric,  and  was  received 


96  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

into  that  class  without  difficulty.  It  is  true  that  I  was  not 
at  first  in  the  front  rank,  but  at  the  end  of  three  months  of 
industry  I  reached  the  highest  places,  and  then  according  to 
my  usual  custom,  I  went  to  sleep  upon  my  laurels  as  soon  as 
I  felt  I  had  no  rivals  to  fear ;  only  waking  up  now  and  then 
when  my  comrades,  by  dint  of  hard  work,  threatened  to 
take  my  place.  Vanity  won  me  another  success ;  I  arrived 
in  Paris  with  a  Languedocian  accent;  the  jests  of  my 
comrades  made  me  lose  it  in  three  months.  These  examples 
and  many  others  prove  that  if  self-love  is  the  root  of  all 
vices,  it  is  also  the  spur  to  many  virtues. 

I  did  my  rhetoric  under  the  two  most  famous  professors 
who  had  appeared  for  a  long  time :  Pere  Pore*e  and  Pere  la 
Sante.  The  first  was  one  of  the  most  worthy  men  I  have 
ever  known ;  the  pupils  loved  him  as  a  father,  and  respected 
him  as  their  master ;  he  knew  the  classics,  he  made  us  feel 
better  than  any  one  all  their  beauties ;  yet  modern  taste 
drew  him  to  its  works,  though  it  never  ruled  in  his  lessons. 
He  loved  the  stage  passionately,  and  was  himself  an  excel- 
lent actor ;  his  soul,  which  was  seen  in  all  his  gestures,  made 
the  art  of  declamation  disappear.  To  his  many  talents  he 
added  virtues  that  were  simple  and  sincere.  He  was  a  saint, 
very  severe  for  himself,  very  indulgent  for  others.  His 
colleague,  Pere  la  Sante,  had  much  imagination,  a  fuller  and 
more  flowery  style  than  that  of  Pere  Pore*e;  gay,  even  a 
trifle  jocose,  he  was  fond  of  Ions  mots,  and  made  himself 
liked,  but  not  enough  feared.  At  the  end  of  my  rhetoric 
year,  this  good  father  proposed  to  me  to  enter  the  Society  of 
the  Jesuits.  I  consulted  Pere  Pore*e  in  confidence ;  he  dis- 
suaded me,  saying  :  "  My  child,  that  does  not  suit  you ;  you 
will  some  day  be  a  pillar  and  light  in  the  Church."  God 
grant  that  that  opinion  may  some  day  be  justified. 

Another  very  celebrated  Jesuit  had  also  a  very  high 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  9? 

opinion  of  me,  namely  :  Pere  Tournemine,  man  of  rank  and 
the  ugliest  of  his  epoch.  This  Jesuit  had  superficial,  but  rather 
extensive  knowledge ;  which  ranked  him  for  some  time 
among  learned  men ;  his  imagination  was  lively  and  singu- 
lar; his  zeal  led  him  by  preference  to  the  conversion  of 
unbelievers;  his  room  was  always  full  of  sceptics,  deists, 
and  materialists ;  he  never  converted  any  of  them,  but  he 
had  the  pleasure  of  discussing,  arguing,  and  spending  a  part 
of  his  life  with  men  of  intellect. 

My  life  in  college  was  most  edifying ;  my  childhood  had 
been  serious ;  my  reputation  for  goodness  was  such  that 
they  confided  to  me  the  care  of  young  men  who  were  not 
permitted  to  leave  college  or  even  take  a  walk  in  the  streets 
on  holidays.  This  commission  often  gave  me  much  pain 
and  uneasiness,  but  I  fulfilled  it  with  the  approbation  of 
my  superiors,  and  without  losing  the  friendship  of  my 
comrades. 

Before  quitting  this  subject  I  must  relate  a  rather  singular 
fact.  We  were  studying,  under  Pere  Pore*e,  the  second  book 
of  Homer's  Iliad ;  that  second  book,  printed  separately,  was 
the  only  copy  of  the  poet  which  we  had.  Pere  Pore*e,  in 
making  us  compose  Greek  verses,  gave  us,  as  a  theme,  hi 
Latin  prose,  a  passage  taken  from  the  fourth  book  of  the 
Iliad.  I  dreamed  at  night  of  the  Greek  verses  I  had  to 
make ;  I  thought  I  had  done  them,  and  kept  repeating  in  my 
memory  the  verses  I  had  just  composed.  I  wrote  down, 
on  waking,  the  four  first  verses  of  my  composition,  having 
entirely  forgotten  the  others.  My  composition  finished,  I 
gave  it  to  Pere  Pore*e,  who  was  much  astonished  to  find  that 
the  four  first  verses  were  entirely  from  Homer.  He  thought 
at  first  that  I  had  copied  them,  but  he  was  fully  convinced 
that  I  had  no  knowledge  of  the  fourth  book  of  the  Iliad. 
Cardinal  de  Polignac,  who  had  no  aversion  to  the  marvellous, 

TOL.  i.  —  7 


98  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  I. 

told  me  that  the  same  thing  had  happened  to  him,  and  in  a 
still  more  surprising  manner.  Philosophers  have  not  ex- 
amined with  sufficient  seriousness  the  functions  of  the  soul 
during  sleep. 

I  finished  my  rhetoric  with  a  brilliant  stroke :  I  declaimed 
in  the  grand  refectory,  in  presence  of  the  most  learned 
Jesuits,  a  Latin  essay  in  which  I  tried  to  prove  that  elo- 
quence was  above  philosophy.  The  speech  had  great  suc- 
cess, and  caused  a  sort  of  schism  between  the  rhetoricians 
and  the  philosophers.  They  answered  my  discourse.  I 
asked  to  reply ;  but  the  director,  fearing  a  ferment  from  the 
argument,  condemned  me  to  silence.  This  quarrel  ended 
in  fisticuffs  given  and  received ;  the  philosophers  were  the 
strongest,  but  not  the  most  numerous.  I  left  college  after 
this  fine  exploit,  with  a  lively  gratitude  in  my  heart  for  the 
education  I  had  received  from  the  Jesuits.  This  feeling 
has  never  been  effaced.  I  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to 
say  what  I  think  of  that  Company,  which  to-day  is  making 
so  much  noise  in  Europe. 

I  shall  finish  this  subject  with  a  few  reflections.  Why 
employ  ten  whole  years  in  teaching,  very  imperfectly,  the 
Latin  language  to  children  ?  At  a  more  advanced  age  they 
would  know  more  Latin  at  the  end  of  six  months  than  they 
learn  at  school  after  many  years.  Why  should  children 
who  are  not  in  the  same  condition  of  Kfe,  nor  destined  to 
the  same  employments  be  subjected  to  the  same  education  ? 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  teach  arithmetic  to  the  son  of  a 
merchant  rather  than  show  him  how  to  make  Greek  and 
Latin  verses  ?  I  should  like  to  see  each  one  brought  up 
according  to  his  position  and  in  relation  to  the  employments 
he  must  one  day  fulfil  in  society.  I  see  only  three  points 
of  education  which  ought  to  be  common  to  all  men :  religion, 
by  which  alone  they  can  be  saved;  the  study  of  laws,  by 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  99 

which  to  defend  their  own  well-being  and  that  of  others ; 
and  lastly,  medicine,  through  which  they  may  hope  to  pre- 
serve their  health.  Such  are,  it  seems  to  me,  the  most 
essential  objects  of  education,  but  they  are  often  the  most 
ignored. 

I  value  'the  study  of  ancient  languages ;  they  give  the 
key  to  all  the  treasures  of  antiquity;  but  that  study  is 
not  as  useful  to  all  men  as  would  be  the  study  of  living 
languages.  Every  calling,  every  profession  seems  to  me  to 
require  its  appropriate  system  of  education,  special  and 
relative. 

In  1731  I  entered  the  Seminary  of  Saint-Sulpice  to  study 
philosophy  and  theology.  The  seminary  of  Saint-Sulpice 
and  the  college  of  Louis-le-Grand  were  considered,  at  the 
time  of  which  I  speak,  as  the  two  most  celebrated  schools ; 
the  highest  noblesse  were  educated  there.  That  is  a  great 
advantage.  It  resulted,  for  me,  in  being  connected  with 
all  that  was  greatest  in  the  kingdom ;  such  ties  of  youth  are 
never  forgotten  and  are  easily  renewed.  We  love  to  recall 
our  early  years ;  and  perhaps,  too,  we  love  always  what  we 
loved  first  in  the  age  of  candour  and  sincerity. 

I  found  at  Saint-Sulpice  a  tone  and  manners  wholly 
different  from  those  of  the  Jesuits ;  the  latter  company  of 
priests,  dependent  on  a  general-superior,  affect  the  greatest 
simplicity  and  a  tone  of  charity  which  is  not  always  accom- 
panied by  much  openness  of  heart.  My  nature,  at  all  times 
decided,  has  never  been  inflexible;  I  have  known  how  to 
adapt  myself  to  all  usages  and  all  tones,  while  preserving 
my  own  way  of  thinking,  which  has  never  been  the  common 
way.  I  was  liked  at  the  seminary,  as  I  had  been  at  school, 
for  my  frankness,  truthfulness,  and  gaiety. 

My  morals  had  always  been  pure  and  my  conduct  regular, 
but  after  a  retreat  which  I  made  at  the  seminary  I  was 


100  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [nut.  i. 

seized  by  an  extraordinary  sense  of  devotion,  which  increased 
day  by  day  for  a  year.  This  fervour,  I  must  allow,  owed 
a  portion  of  its  heat  to  that  of  my  age  and  the  vivacity  of 
my  passions ;  my  devotion  was  very  ambitious ;  it  disdained 
all  ordinary  practices  to  fasten  on  whatever  was  most  sub- 
lime and  most  austere  in  the  lives  of  the  saints.  My  long 
night-watches,  my  prayers,  my  fastings,  the  perpetual  struggle 
of  my  mind  heated  my  blood  in  a  manner  very  dangerous 
for  my  health.  I  came  near  falling  into  the  pious  delirium 
of  certain  mystics;  I  touched  very  closely  upon  ecstasies 
and  visions ;  I  felt  about  the  region  of  my  heart  when  in 
prayer  a  heat  that  was  almost  unbearable.  I  took  this 
inward  fire  for  that  of  divine  love ;  I  hoped  that  some  day 
I  might  die  consumed  by  it,  and  that  my  heart  would  be 
found  reduced  to  ashes.  The  vivacity  of  my  imagination, 
the  emptiness  of  my  heart,  which  needed  to  love,  had  much 
to  do  with  these  pious  excesses.  My  austerities  were  very 
great.  I  do  not  advise  the  practice  to  young  men.  Flagel- 
lation, of  which  much  use  is  made  in  the  communities, 
seems  to  me  a  practice  both  indecent  and  equivocal.  It  is 
at  least  doubtful  if  that  austerity  is  more  fitted  to  repress 
than  to  arouse  the  passions. 

I  was  in  the  third  heaven  when  a  word,  a  single  speech  of 
my  director,  who  was  a  man  of  intelligence,  flung  me  from 
this  high  sphere  and  caused  me  to  follow  a  system  of  devotion 
more  simple  and  more  reasonable.  He  had  advised  me  to 
write  down  my  resolutions  and  give  him  the  paper  to  exam- 
ine. My  fruitful  examination,  instead  of  filling  a  few  sheets, 
brought  forth  a  volume.  M.  de  la  Fosse  (that  was  the  name 
of  my  director)  kept  the  manuscript  two  weeks,  and  when, 
at  the  end  of  that  time,  I  went  to  fetch  it  and  hear  his 
opinion,  he  coldly  gave  me  back  my  folio,  saying :  "  There  are 
four  faults  in  French  on  the  first  page."  Those  words  chilled 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE   BEENIS.  101 

me  to  excess ;  which  proves  that  we  should  be  careful  what 
we  say  to  young  men  gifted  with  eager  minds,  able  to  gather 
ideas  rapidly  and  make  comparisons. 

I  was  at  Saint-Sulpice,  as  I  had  been  at  school,  an  example 
of  punctual  obedience  to  rules.  I  also  distinguished  myself 
in  my  studies  of  philosophy  and  theology ;  it  was  I  who 
kept  the  class  in  the  absence  or  illness  of  the  master.  This 
species  of  superiority  was  not  acquired  by  hard  work ;  a  ready 
perception  took  the  place  of  industry.  At  first  I  worked  well 
to  equal  or  surpass  my  comrades ;  but  I  stopped  as  soon  as  I 
had  done  so.  I  had,  therefore,  many  hours  to  fill,  and  I 
employed  them  in  studying  belles-lettres.  This  study  soon 
acquired  me  the  reputation  of  a  wit,  and  that  reputation  was 
very  fatal  to  me  ;  it  turned  against  me  the  old  directors  of  the 
seminary,  to  whom  the  study  of  literature  seemed  too  worldly. 
The  frankness  with  which  I  expressed  myself  on  the  limited 
education  of  Saint-Sulpice,  and  on  the  too  minute  practices 
which  were  there  in  usage,  made  them  tax  me  with  an  in- 
dependent and  dangerous  spirit. 

Pere  Couturier,  the  Superior,  had  too  much  intelligence, 
and  was  too  well  versed  in  the  ways  of  the  world  and  of  men, 
to  judge  me  so  severely ;  but  as  it  was  he  who  presided  over 
the  choice  of  bishops,  through  the  confidence  Cardinal  de 
Fleury  placed  in  his  discernment,  he  may  have  thought  that 
if  I  were  put  into  the  Church  I  should  have  less  docility 
than  men  of  narrower  minds  less  cultivated.  The  cardinal 
was  old ;  the  Abbe*  Couturier  wanted  to  keep  his  credit  and 
his  influence  with  him.  He  always  gave  the  abbeys  and 
bishoprics  to  persons  who  were  irreproachable  as  to  morals. 
So  far  all  was  well ;  but  in  choosing  mediocre  minds  to  fill  the 
chief  places  in  the  Church,  he  did  bad  service  to  the  episco- 
pate, and  did  not  fulfil  his  object ;  for  fools  are,  to  say  the 
least,  as  ungrateful  as  men  of  intelligence ;  and  they  are  not 


102  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHJLP.  i. 

more  docile,  because  obstinacy  and  pride  usually  prefer  to 
put  themselves  in  narrow  minds. 

However  that  may  be,  the  Abb£  Couturier,  while  showing 
me  every  mark  of  esteem  and  friendliness,  allowed  me  to  be 
injured  in  the  cardinal's  mind.  He  knew  that  persons  had 
done  me  ill-turns,  and  he  seemed  to  fear  them.  He  advised 
me,  in  order  to  avert  the  storm,  to  make  a  journey  to  my 
family,  promising  to  receive  me  in  the  seminary  on  my  return. 
I  felt  the  snare,  but  I  was  powerless  to  avoid  it.  Nevertheless, 
I  took  precautions  so  prudent  and  adroit  that  I  still  wonder 
how  at  that  early  age  my  mind  was  so  mature  and  reflective. 
I  yielded,  therefore,  of  necessity,  to  the  advice  of  the  Abbe* 
Couturier,  who  wrote  the  most  beautiful  letters  to  my  father 
and  bishop.  I  bound  him  also  by  certain  authentic  words  in 
my  favour  which  I  made  him  say  to  persons  of  importance 
in  the  city  and  at  Court ;  and  having  taken  these  precautions, 
I  prepared  for  my  journey  to  Languedoc,  which  was  to  last, 
and  did  in  fact  last,  only  three  months. 

A  few  reflections  here  present  themselves  which  I  must 
not  forget.  The  Seminary  of  Saint-Sulpice  has  been,  is,  and 
will  be  for  a  long  time,  the  nursery  of  bishops  ;  but  the  edu- 
cation formerly  given  there  was  suitable  at  most  to  form  vicars 
and  rectors.  The  love  and  practice  of  small  things  are  hi 
great  credit  there ;  but  a  species  of  horror  for.  great  ones  is 
inspired.  The  superiors  accustom  young  men  to  dissimula- 
tion by  that  which  they  use  towards  them.  If  you  have 
committed  a  fault  you  are  warned  of  it  in  equivocal  words,  to 
which  the  heedlessness  of  youth  pays  little  attention ;  but 
they  punish  so  severely  the  slightest  wrong-doing  that  it  may 
be  said  there  is  no  proportion  between  the  punishment  and 
fault.  A  chicken  eaten  secretly  is  a  cause  for  expulsion. 
But  what  is  worse  is  that  when  dismissed  from  the  seminary 
you  are  certain  of  having  the  Sulpicians  for  enemies.  They 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  103 

think  to  justify  their  prejudice  by  perpetually  doing  you  ill- 
services.  How  is  it  possible  they  can  imagine  it  wise  to  be 
political  with  youth,  or  that  any  good  can  arise  from  the  art 
of  narrowing  the  mind  and  compressing  the  heart  ?  I  have 
always  observed  that  false  natures  succeed  better  in  their 
houses  than  open  and  sincere  hearts. 

'-'•  It  must  be  said,  however,  to  the  praise  of  seminaries,  that 
they  bring  up  young  priests  to  great  purity  of  morals  ;  and  I 
hear  it  said  that  the  Abbe*  Couturier  has  now  put  a  stop  to 
much  pettiness  and  mummery.  But  to  make  the  seminary  a 
true  nursery  for  grand-vicars  and  bishops,  there  must  reign  a 
higher  tone,  more  frankness,  and  a  truer  spirit  of  government ; 
eloquence  should  be  cultivated,  a  talent  so  necessary  to  bishops 
and  men  in  office ;  above  all,  instead  of  pupils  passing  ten 
years  in  the  subtile  but  sterile  study  of  scholasticism,  they 
should  become  more  learned  in  the  knowledge  of  Holy 
Scripture,  the  canons,  and  ecclesiastical  history.  The  doctrine 
taught  at  Saint-Sulpice  is  fairly  correct ;  it  takes  a  middle 
course  between  the  school  of  the  Jesuits  and  that  of  Saint- 
Thomas.  It  is  a  pity  that  Jansenism  has  rendered  the  semi- 
nary of  Saint-Magloire  suspected,  for  the  education  there  is 
much  higher  than  that  at  Saint-Sulpice,  and  it  was  a  good 
school  to  form  proper  subjects  for  the  episcopate. 

I  had  hardly  left  the  seminary  before  the  temptation  to  go 
to  the  theatre  assailed  me,  and  I  succumbed  to  it.  The 
Come'die  Frangaise  affected  my  heart,  the  Opera  seduced  my 
senses.  From  that  moment  there  was  kindled  within  me  so 
ardent  a  passion  for  the  stage  that  the  greatest  sacrifice  I 
have  made  in  my  life  has  been  to  renounce  it.  This  frequent- 
ing of  theatres  produced  in  me  a  species  of  revolution  of 
ideas  and  feelings,  from  which  I  conclude  that  it  is  dangerous 
for  young  men.  I  even  think  that  the  Opera  ought  not  to  be 
permitted  at  any  age. 


104  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

I  arrived  in  Languedoc  in  the  month  of  December,  1734, 
and  found  a  mission  established  in  my  father's  house,  which 
sustained  for  a  time  the  already  tottering  edifice  of  my 
devotion.  Intercourse  with  women  was  beginning  to  seem 
to  me  agreeable ;  my  vanity  was  nattered  by  the  praises  they 
gave  to  my  intelligence  and  my  face.  But  the  reflection 
that  I  was  to  return  to  Saint-Sulpice  put  a  bridle  on  my 
heart,  all  ready  to  escape  me.  I  passed  three  months  in  the 
battle  of  innocence  with  passions. 

One  night  when  my  imagination,  more  heated  than  usual, 
kept  me  awake,  I  went  out  to  walk  on  a  terrace  which  over- 
looked a  vegetable  garden.  The  moonlight  was  very  beau- 
tiful, and  the  night  was  still.  The  light  of  the  moon  which 
played  among  the  trees  seemed  to  form  a  thousand  varied 
figures.  I  thought  to  myself  that  here  was  the  origin  of  many 
of  the  so-called  apparitions.  My  imagination,  recalling  to  me 
the  stories  of  my  childhood,  began  to  glow ;  I  cast  my  eyes 
into  the  garden  and  thought  I  saw  distinctly  a  figure,  very 
pale,  of  natural  height,  leaning  against  a  tree,  the  hands 
crossed  on  its  breast,  and  the  whole  form  covered  from  head 
to  foot  with  a  white  veil.  Fear  seized  me,  in  spite  of  the 
reasoning  I  made  to  prevent  it.  In  vain  I  told  myself  that 
if  it  was  a  spirit  it  would  not  be  visible ;  that  if  it  was  a 
body  I  had  nothing  ^to  fear,  because  of  the  distance  at  which 
we  were  from  each  other ;  strong  and  vigorous  as  I  was,  all 
these  reasons  did  not  prevent  me  from  being  bathed  in  sweat, 
or  my  hair  from  standing  on  end.  I  forced  myself,  however, 
to  examine  the  figure  attentively ;  the  more  I  looked  at  it, 
the  more  distinct  the  details  became ;  it  even  became  taller 
to  the  eye,  which  I  attributed,  justly,  to  the  excited  state  of 
my  imagination.  I  asked  the  phantom  several  times  in  a 
loud  voice  what  it  was,  and  what  it  was  doing  there.  Its 
silence  was  obstinate  and  alarming.  My  knees  trembled 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  105 

under  me,  but  I  resolved  to  know  the  truth  or  perish.  I 
went  back  to  my  room  for  a  gun,  feeling  that  the  phantom 
was  behind  me.  I  returned  to  the  terrace  with  my  weapon ; 
which  gave  me  confidence,  for  I  found  the  figure  smaller 
and  standing  at  the  same  place  where  it  was  when  I  began 
to  be  afraid.  I  called  to  it  again  several  times  and  threatened 
to  fire  upon  it.  No  answer.  Then,  leaning  the  muzzle  of 
my  gun  on  the  balustrade,  because  my  hand  trembled,  I 
aimed  carefully  at  the  phantom  and  fired  my  shot,  which 
struck  full  upon  the  tree  against  which  the  spectre  leaned. 
Its  position  did  not  change.  Then,  seized  by  a  sort  of  fury 
mingled  with  fear,  and  resolved  to  push  the  adventure  to  an 
end,  I  crossed  the  whole  chateau  in  the  darkness,  ran  down 
into  the  garden,  saw  the  apparent  spirit,  and  marched  at  it 
with  my  hair  on  end  and  all  my  muscles  strained.  I  was  only 
four  steps  from  it  when  I  saw  it  very  distinctly ;  I  sprang 
upon  it  and  clasped,  very  closely  between  my  arms,  —  the 
tree.  From  that  moment  the  illusion  dispersed,  and  I  saw 
no  more  of  the  phantom.  My  senses  calmed  themselves, 
and  I  searched  tranquilly  for  the  cause  of  my  error.  I  saw 
that  the  tree  was  peeled  of  its  bark  and  rotten  at  the  core ; 
that  the  moonlight  striking  into  it  caused  the  whiteness  to 
which  my  imagination  had  added  all  the  rest.  There  was 
in  this  adventure  as  much  courage  as  cowardice.  If  I  had 
not  fathomed  it  I  should  all  my  life  have  believed  in  the 
silly  tales  of  nurses. 

On  my  return  to  Paris  in  1735,  the  Abbd  Couturier  re- 
ceived me  with  open  arms,  but  he  told  me  that  I  could  not 
have  a  room  in  the  seminary  for  a  week.  He  put  me  off  in 
this  way,  from  week  to  week,  for  three  months.  This  con- 
duct did  not  surprise  me,  I  had  foreseen  it ;  but  it  afflicted 
my  family.  My  father's  friends  in  Paris,  who  did  not  sus- 
pect the  sincerity  of  the  Sulpicians,  thought  it  was  I  who 


106  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

had  a  repugnance  to  shut  myself  up  in  the  seminary.  The 
matter  had  to  be  cleared  up.  The  Abbe*  Couturier  assured 
me  that  I  was  master  of  re-entering  Saint-Sulpice,  that  he 
had  given  his  word  for  it,  but  that  all  the  other  superiors 
were  prejudiced  against  me ;  therefore  my  stay  at  the  sem- 
inary would  be  more  injurious  to  me  than  useful.  I  yielded 
to  necessity,  and  begged  the  Abbe*  Couturier  to  write  to  my 
family  and  get  them  to  adopt  the  plan  which  he  advised. 
This  was  to  enter  the  college  of  Bourgogne  with  several  of 
my  comrades  of  the  seminary ;  the  Archbishop  of  Lyon, 
Montazet,  was  one  of  them.  This  plan  was  followed,  but  I 
had  experienced  for  six  months  such  treachery,  such  false- 
ness, that  I  took  a  horror  of  what  in  society  is  commonly 
called  mitraille. 

Meanwhile  my  fate  became  clearer  at  Court.  Cardinal 
de  Fleury  declared  to  the  Mare*chal  de  la  Fare,  who  com- 
manded in  Languedoc  at  that  time,  that  he  had  been  on  the 
point  of  giving  me  a  considerable  abbey,  but  that  now,  so 
long  as  he  lived,  I  should  have  nothing ;  so  that  luckily  for 
me,  I  was  young  and  he  was  old.  He  spoke  with  the  same 
harshness  to  the  Bishop  of  Viviers  (Villeneuve).  These 
gentlemen  sent  these  curt,  decisive  answers  without  any 
explanation  to  my  father.  He  was  grieved  to  the  heart. 
He  wrote  to  me  with  indignation,  and  left  me  without 
support  for  two  years.  My  relations  and  friends  in  Paris 
shut  their  doors  and  turned  their  backs  to  me.  Imagine  the 
situation  of  a  young  man  of  nineteen,  without  means,  with- 
out advice,  left  to  himself  in  a  city  like  Paris.  No  one 
endures  disgrace  at  that  age.  If  I  had  had  vices  they  would 
have  been  developed  under  such  critical  circumstances.  I 
armed  myself  with  courage ;  I  was  able  to  choose  a  course, 
and  to  profit  by  the  lesson  of  adversity,  which  is  a  good 
teacher. 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  107 

My  misfortune  lasted  long ;  the  cardinal  did  not  die  till 
1743,  but  my  fate  did  not  change  till  1751.  Keduced  to 
the  resources  of  my  own  soul,  I  made  my  plan ;  and  this 
plan  was  an  honourable  one :  I  vowed  myself  to  the  most 
scrupulous  integrity,  to  patience,  and  to  courage.  I  looked 
to  Letters  as  a  resource  and  as  an  amusement ;  I  renounced 
the  studies  at  the  Sorbonne,  my  means  not  allowing  me  to 
follow  them. 

I  sought  for  friends  in  the  great  world,  and  I  found  them ; 
the  reputation  for  intelligence  which  I  had  already  acquired 
opened  the  door  to  me.  A  rather  brilliant  imagination, 
a  sustained  gaiety,  the  look  and  the  charm  of  health,  a  noble 
way  of  thinking,  a  loftiness  of  soul  without  assumption,  an 
independence  which  had  the  air  only  of  liberty,  productions 
that  were  merely  easy  and  agreeable,  but,  above  all,  discretion, 
secrecy,  and  a  spirit  of  conciliation  and  gentleness,  were  the 
qualities  which  admitted  me  into  good  society,  and  soon 
made  me  sought  there. 

From  that  moment,  I  put  a  fixed  intention  into  my  whole 
conduct.  I  made  a  methodical  system  of  the  life  I  would 
lead,  frivolous  as  it  seems  to  be,  and  I  foresaw  that  the  plan 
would  be  very  useful  to  me.  I  resolved  to  study  men  of 
all  classes  and  all  orders,  and  to  instruct  myself  in  knowl- 
edge of  the  human  heart  while  amusing  myself.  I  compre- 
hended that  this  study  of  the  world  would  render  me  capable 
of  great  employments  should  circumstances  call  me  to  them ; 
but  at  any  rate  I  could  hardly,  living  in  good  company  and 
making  myself  considered  there,  fail  to  find  a  way  to 
obtain  some  benefices  on  which  I  could  live  with  decency. 

As  soon  as  I  ceased  to  lead  the  ecclesiastical  life  I  re- 
nounced the  idea  of  taking  the  vows  of  that  profession. 
The  honour  and  constancy  with  which  I  held  to  this  inten- 
tion very  nearly  ruined  me  under  the  ministry  of  the  Bishop 


108  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

of  Mirepoix.  One  need  not  be  surprised  if  fortune  was  long 
in  smiling  upon  me,  and  if  she  made  me  feel  her  rigour  and 
her  caprices;  I  often  sacrificed  her  to  friendship  and  to 
honour,  but  I  never  sacrificed  anything  to  her.  Neverthe- 
less, my  existence  never  caused  me  anxiety.  Many  wit- 
nesses still  living,  who  were  sometimes  alarmed  about  my 
future,  can  certify  that  I  was  convinced  I  should  be  a  man 
of  importance  by  the  time  I  was  forty.  The  principal 
quality  of  my  mind  has  been  to  see  clear  and  see  far. 

My  misfortune  had  some  relief.  I  bore  it  with  gaiety  and 
courage  on  entering  society ;  it  made  me  interesting.  More- 
over, without  violating  the  rules  of  prudence  or  neglecting 
decorum  and  respect,  I  did  not  restrain  myself  in  speaking 
of  Cardinal  de  Fleury.  He  was  not  without  enemies;  all 
prime-ministers  have  them.  Such  men  sought  me ;  and  I 
was  admitted  very  early  into  the  intrigues  of  that  day. 
I  was  secret,  though  frank ;  that  quality  made  them  forget 
my  youth.  I  thus  learned  very  early  to  know  the  Court, 
and  as  reflection  has  always  been  the  distinctive  attribute 
of  my  mind,  I  made  great  profit  of  the  many  anecdotes 
that  were  confided  to  me. 

At  twenty  years  of  age  I  was  admitted  into  the  society 
of  the  Torcys,  the  Polignacs,  the  d'Aguesseaus,  the  Boling- 
brokes.  At  the  same  time  I  was  dining  with  Fontenelle, 
Montesquieu,  Mairan,  Maupertuis,  Cre*  billon.  My  talk  was 
not  foreign  to  that  of  men  so  different.  Beading  furnished 
me  with  enough  to  pay  my  contingent  in  many  ways;  the 
ideas  of  others  germinated  readily  in  my  head  and  gave  birth 
to  more.  No  one  ever  seized  more  quickly  the  peculiarities 
of  each  man  and  each  social  circle.  It  cost  me  nothing  to 
take  the  tone  of  others,  without,  however,  losing  my  own. 
This  facility  of  manners  and  mind  made  me  acceptable  in 
society ;  I  became  what  they  call  in  the  world  a  coqueluche 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  109 

[reigning  fancy].  People  had  to  take  time  by  the  forelock 
to  get  me  to  supper.  I  was  the  fashion,  without  these 
successes  giving  me  inward  vanity  or  an  air  of  self-conceit. 

Women  did  not  spoil  me  more  than  men  did.  I  found 
among  them  much  cordiality  and  very  favourable  prepos- 
sessions. Here  would  be  the  place  for  the  history  of  my 
errors,  but  the  picture  would  be  perhaps  more  dangerous 
than  useful.  I  ought  to  warn  those  who  will  read  these 
Memoirs  of  the  danger  of  giving  way  to  the  sensibility  of 
their  hearts.  Happy  they  who  have  never  felt  the  action 
of  the  soul  upon  the  senses  and  the  senses  upon  the  soul. 
It  is  very  difficult  to  be  young  and  to  be  virtuous.  All  that 
I  can  say  is  that  in  my  youth  I  had  many  reproaches  to 
make  to  myself  as  a  Christian,  but  none  as  a  man  of  honour. 
I  have  always  fled  bad  company  and  had  a  horror  of  de- 
bauchery. 

Society  saw  me  poor  and  gay  under  misfortune,  seeking 
friends  and  disdaining  patrons,  without  fortune  but  taking 
no  means  to  obtain  it.  They  thought  me  the  happiest  man 
in  the  world,  and  attributed  to  temperament  what  was  due 
to  courage.  I  was  born  sensitive  to  excess.  My  situation 
humiliated  me  ;  I  tasted  all  the  bitterness  of  it,  but  I  knew 
well  that  a  sad  face  does  not  interest  long  and  soon  wearies 
others.  I  had,  therefore,  the  strength  to  keep  my  griefs  to 
myself,  and  to  let  nothing  show  to  the  eyes  of  others  but 
my  imagination  and  gaiety. 

In  1733  Gresset's  first  works  appeared :  "  Vert-Vert,"  and 
especially  "  La  Chartreuse,"  had  the  greatest  success.  I  felt 
more  than  others  the  merit  of  those  works,  but  I  did  not 
give  way  to  an  enthusiasm  that  seemed  to  me  excessive. 
People  said  to  me,  "  Do  better."  I  answered  that  as  good 
might  be  done  in  the  same  style;  and  I  wrote  as  he  did, 
joking  at  myself,  the  "  Epistle  on  Laziness,"  of  which  many 


110  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i. 

copies  were  handed  about ;  it  was  even  printed  without  my 
taking  part  in  the  matter.  It  was  believed  to  be  by  Gresset. 
I  heard  people  of  taste,  who  did  not  know  I  was  the  author, 
say  that  the  "  Epistle  "  was  in  the  best  style,  and  resembled 
the  good  works  of  the  "  Temple."  This  first  success  gave 
me  the  idea  in  1736  of  the  "  Epistle  to  my  Penates,"  which 
was  at  first  attributed  to  Gresset  and  had  great  vogue. 
This  Epistle  was  also  printed  without  my  knowledge,  and 
in  a  furtive  manner.  The  veil  which  covered  me  was  now 
torn  aside  and  my  name  went  from  lip  to  lip ;  it  even  ceased 
to  be  unknown  in  foreign  countries ;  so  true  is  it  that  a  few 
happy  verses  give  celebrity  more  rapidly  than  a  purely  useful 
work. 

It  was  thus  that  the  talent  I  had  for  poesy  from  my  cradle 
awoke  in  me  once  more  and  made  me  known  to  the  public.  I 
knew  that  the  king  did  not  like  poems,  and  that  poets  have 
always  been  rather  generally  regarded  as  frivolous  and 
dangerous  persons.  But  I  was  unhappy,  I  needed  distrac- 
tions ;  besides  which,  I  lived  in  an  age  when  wit  was  much 
enjoyed ;  so  I  chose  the  most  agreeable  course.  It  cost  me 
little  pains  to  succeed ;  to  me  it  was  a  play,  not  a  labour. 
At  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  thought  but  little  of  my  pro- 
ductions ;  but  I  knew  they  were  rapidly  establishing  the 
reputation  of  my  intellect;  that  this  reputation  would  be 
useful  to  me;  that  by  abandoning  poetry  later  I  should 
escape  the  inconveniences  attached  to  it,  while  the  celebrity 
would  remain  to  me.  I  was  not  mistaken  in  my  opinion. 

The  Bishop  of  Lu§on  (Bussy-Eabutin),  who  had  been  the 
friend  of  my  father  and  mother,  and  was  called  in  society 
the  "God  of  good  company,"  sought  me  out  and  took  a 
friendship  for  me.  He  wanted  to  reconcile  me  with  Saint- 
Sulpice.  I  gave  him  full  powers ;  but  with  all  his  clever- 
Bess  he  failed  in  his  negotiation,  just  as  I  had  predicted  to 


1715-1735]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  Ill 

him.  Convinced  that  I  could  obtain  nothing  from  Cardinal 
de  Fleury,  he  brought  me  back,  nevertheless,  into  my  father's 
good  graces ;  he  obtained  from  the  Archbishop  of  Paris 
(Vintimille)  the  promise  of  a  canonry  in  Notre-Dame. 
The  day  that  we  were  to  go  together  to  Conflans,  to  con- 
summate this  affair,  he  died  of  an  indigestion.  Accidents 
of  the  same  kind  have  often  deprived  me  of  establishments 
which  seemed  quite  certain. 

I  owe  my  fortune  to  the  Bishop  of  Lu§on,  through  a 
remark  of  his  which  made  the  deepest  impression  on 
my  mind.  "  So  long  as  you  are  young,"  he  said,  "  you  can 
easily  bear  the  situation  in  which  you  are.  You  are  agree- 
able, you  will  be  sought ;  pleasure  and  self-love  will  stand 
you  hi  place  of  all  else ;  but  remember  that  there  is  nothing 
in  Paris  so  melancholy,  or  more  humiliating  than  the  state 
of  an  old  abbe*  who  has  no  means."  That  exhortation 
never  left  my  head ;  it  roused  me  often  from  my  indolence, 
and  it  did  much,  about  my  thirty-fifth  year  towards  making 
me  choose  a  course. 

Something  essential  would  be  lacking  to  the  history  of 
my  youth  if  I  neglected  to  describe  the  manners,  morals,  and 
spirit  of  the  times  in  which  I  lived.  Neither  will  those  who 
come  after  me  be  sorry  to  find  here  the  portraits  of  some  of 
the  principal  personages  who  figured  on  the  stage  of  the 
world  and  with  whom  I  have"  been,  from  the  time  of  my 
entrance  into  society,  on  terms  of  some  intimacy. 


112  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  II. 


n. 


1735-1744. — Manners  and  Morals  of  the  Age.  —  Cardinal  de  Fleury.  — 
Cardinal  de  Polignac.  —  My  Journey  to  Auvergne  and  Languedoc  in 
1739.  — Return  to  Paris  in  1741.— The  Bishop  of  Mirepoix.  —  My 
Entrance  to  the  French  Academy  in  1744. — Men  of  Letters.  —  Women. 
—  The  Great  Seigneurs. 

THE  Court  and  capital  decide  the  national  manners  and 
morals,  as  they  do  the  fashions.  I  shall  therefore  speak  here 
of  none  but  those  which  reigned  in  my  day  at  Paris  and  at 
Versailles. 

Madame  de  Maintenon  had  made  the  Court  of  Louis  XIV. 
very  devout,  or,  to  speak  more  truly,  very  hypocritical ;  but 
the  Regency  raised  the  mask  that  hid  the  vices.  The  Due 
d'0rle*ans,  to  whom  were  attributed  great  crimes,  did  not 
believe  in  integrity,  though  a  man  of  honour  himself.  Al- 
though so  enlightened  a  prince,  he  did  not  sufficiently  feel 
how  important  it  was,  even  politically,  to  respect  and  cause 
to  be  respected  religion.  The  king  had  one  day  signed  the 
orders  for  the  benefices  of  which  the  Eegent  had  the  bestowal. 
The  latter,  as  he  took  his  chocolate,  announced  the  news  to 
those  about  him  saying :  "  The  Jansenists  will  be  satisfied 
with  me  this  time,  for  I  have  given  everything  to  grace  [fa- 
vour], and  nothing  to  merit."  M.  Massillon,  Bishop  of  Cler- 
mont,  told  me  that,  complaining  one  day  to  the  Regent  of  the 
rascalities  of  a  man  whom  the  prince  had  sent  him  in  order 
that  they  might  work  together  on  the  affairs  of  the  clergy, 
the  Regent  interrupted  the  recital  of  the  man's  knavery  by 
saying  to  Cardinal  Dubois,  who  was  present,  "  Abbe*,  we  must 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  113 

allow  he  is  a  great  rascal."  M.  Massillon  thought  to  himself, 
"  Good  !  there 's  one  unmasked  and  ruined : "  but  the  Eegent 
added, "  Yes,  a  scoundrel  of  the  first  order,  but  very  adroit  — 
Abb£  "  (to  Cardinal  Dubois), "  we  must  make  an  ambassador 
of  him."  That  was  all  the  satisfaction  he  gave  to  the  com- 
plaints laid  before  him ;  and  I  could  add  a  hundred  other 
instances  as  striking. 

All  those  who  thought  daringly  of  religion  had  a  claim  to 
please  the  Kegent.  He  allowed  a  new  edition  of  the  "  Dic- 
tionnaire  de  Bayle  "  to  be  dedicated  to  him, — a  work  by  which 
persons  became  learned  very  cheaply.  Scandalous  anecdotes 
were  heard  everywhere  and  scepticism  was  presented  in  its 
strongest  light.  Even  women  began  to  free  themselves  from 
prejudices.  The  spirit  of  unbelief  and  free-thinking  was 
abroad  in  the  world.  The  irreligion  of  the  Eegent  and  his 
debauches  found  ready  imitators  in  a  nation  whose  natural 
character  it  is  to  imitate  servilely  the  virtues  and  vices  of  its 
masters :  corruption  became  almost  general ;  people  boasted 
of  materialism,  deism,  pyrrhonism ;  faith  was  relegated  to 
the  common  people,  the  bourgeoisie,  and  the  religious  com- 
munities; it  was  no  longer  good  taste  to  believe  in  the 
Gospel 

The  Eegent  did  not  do  less  harm  to  honour,  the  national 
and  distinctive  virtue  of  Frenchmen,  than  he  did  to  religion. 
It  was  not  that  the  Due  d'Orldans  was  not  personally  full 
of  honour  and  integrity ;  but  he  was  so  convinced  that  all 
men  were  scoundrels  that  he  treated  equally  those  who  were 
honourable  and  those  who  were  not ;  he  even  gave  marked 
preferences  to  the  latter,  and  he  did  so  great  an  outrage  to 
virtue  and  honour  by  making  Cardinal  Dubois  prime-minister 
that  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  Honour,  that  sentiment 
which  President  Montesquieu  regards  as  the  most  powerful 
mainspring  of  monarchies,  was  weakened  under  the  Eegency. 

VOL.  I.  —  8 


114  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

Women,  who  have  always  had  the  ambition  to  govern, 
hoped  to  lay  hold  of  the  reins  of  empire  under  a  prince  who 
could  not  do  without  mistresses,  and  who  had  reasons  to 
change  them  often.  But  they  never  had  with  him  any  other 
influence  than  that  of  enriching  themselves  at  the  cost  of 
the  State,  and  of  sometimes  appointing  to  offices  men  who 
were  incapable  of  filling  them.  It  may  be  said  that  dissolu- 
tion reached  its  height  during  the  Regency.  The  women 
grew  accustomed  to  unbelief,  indecency,  love  of  money,  and 
the  notion  of  governing  men  in  power ;  nothing  was  lacking 
to  complete  the  work  of  corruption  but  to  push  luxury  to 
extremes. 

The  system  of  Law,  which  could  have  liberated  the  country 
from  debt  had  the  bank-notes  been  kept  to  a  reasonable  rela- 
tion to  coin,  completed  the  moral  ruin  through  the  extrava- 
gant fortunes  it  occasioned.  Millions  were  spent  on  debauch- 
ery and  high  living  with  the  same  ease  with  which  they  were 
acquired.  People  became  accustomed  to  "  marriages  for 
money,"  a  consecrated  term  of  the  present  day,  to  the  shame 
of  the  nobility ;  for  a  financial  wife  can  only  bring  into  a 
home  the  sentiments  which  make  wealth  preferable  to  all 
A  warrior  nation  is  very  near  to  bastardy  when  this  way  of 
thinking  becomes  that  of  its  leaders. 

The  Due  d'Orleans  had  much  intelligence ;  he  loved  and  cul- 
tivated both  science  and  the  arts  with  success ;  he  made  them 
the  fashion,  and  that  fashion  still  reigned  with  fury  in  my 
early  days.  I  did  not  find  on  entering  the  world  the  impiety, 
debauchery,  and  corruption  of  morals  on  or  near  the  throne 
as  they  were  during  the  Regency.  The  weak  and  troubled 
ministry  of  M.  le  Due  had,  to  be  sure,  changed  nothing,  but 
that  of  Cardinal  de  Fleury  brought  within  narrower  limits 
the  outward  corruption  of  morals ;  the  same  vices  existed, 
perhaps,  but  with  less  brilliancy  and  protection.  It  is  natu- 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  115 

ral,  therefore,  that  I  should  here  place  some  features  of  the 
life  and  character  of  that  minister. 

Cardinal  de  Fleury  governed  France  with  all  the  power  of 
a  prime-minister  and  all  the  simplicity  of  a  modest  favourite. 
His  influence  during  a  long  period  of  years  never  had  any 
diminution ;  but  he  lived  too  long  for  his  fame,  and  died  just 
in  time  not  to  survive  his  credit. 

He  was  born  at  Lodeve  ;  his  father  was  a  receiver-general 
and  a  counciller  of  State ;  one  of  his  sisters  married  a  gentle- 
man of  Languedoc,  from  whom  are  descended  the  Dues  de 
Fleury.  The  cardinal's  father  gave  him  an  excellent  educa- 
tion, and  sent  him  to  make  his  studies  in  Paris.  The  Abbe* 
de  Fleury  allied  himself  early  with  people  of  rank ;  his 
person  was  agreeable,  he  had  wit,  and  narrated  marvellously 
well,  —  a  quality  that  was  quite  common  under  Louis  XIV., 
but  is  to-day  no  longer  the  fashion ;  he  wrote  and  spoke  ex- 
cellently. I  will  mention  here  in  passing  that  the  cardinal 
had  a  damask  bed  at  school  which  was  magnificent ;  but  what 
was  very  modest  and  perhaps  a  little  affected  was  that  the 
all-powerful  minister  used  that  bed  throughout  his  life,  and 
died  in  it. 

As  soon  as  he  had  taken  his  licentiate's  degree  he  wished 
to  buy  an  office  of  chaplain  to  Madame  la  Dauphine.  I  re- 
member a  story  as  to  this  which  he  told  himself,  and  it  is 
rather  singular  that  he  dared  to  do  so.  He  related  how  his 
family  consigned  him  to  a  Pere  of  the  Oratoire,  whose  name 
I  forget ;  this  personage  had  much  intelligence,  knowledge  of 
the  world,  and  severity.  "  I  don't  know  why,"  said  the 
cardinal,  "  but  this  good  F£re  suspected  me  of  being  ambi- 
tious ;  he  was  always  preaching  to  me  on  that  point,  and 
forbade  me  especially  to  go  to  Court,  on  pain  of  eternal 
damnation."  It  became  necessary,  however,  that  he  should 
tell  his  mentor  in  confidence  about  the  office  of  chaplain ; 


116  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

the  confidence  was  ill-taken ;  he  was  scolded,  and  received 
the  cold  shoulder ;  but  the  thing  being  done  it  was  necessary 
to  appease  his  director.  "  Well,"  said  the  reverend  Pere, 
"  you  have  got  the  mania  for  going  to  Court ;  I  will  now  give 
you  a  piece  of  advice  by  which  to  conduct  yourself  wisely 
and  safely :  stupefy  your  mind  and  ossify  your  heart."  The 
Abbe*  de  Fleury  became  gallant  and  intriguing  at  the  Court 
of  Louis  XIV.  The  king,  who  was  beginning  to  turn  to  piety, 
had  always  detested  the  gallantry  and  intrigue  of  priests ; 
the  Abbe*  de  Fleury  had  become  his  chaplain ;  he  let  him 
grow  old  in  that  office,  without  ever  being  willing  to  appoint 
him  to  a  bishopric,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  intriguers,  male 
and  female,  who  caballed  for  him,  and  in  spite  of  the  recom- 
mendation of  his  own  confessor. 

M.  Hubert,  rector  of  Versailles,  was  then  in  great  considera- 
tion at  Court ;  he  was  the  confessor  of  Cardinal  de  Noailles, 
who  at  that  time  enjoyed  the  whole  esteem  and,  I  may  say, 
the  entire  friendship  of  the  king.  The  Abbe*  de  Fleury  took 
the  course  of  confessing  to  M.  Hubert,  and  for  two  years  he 
was  so  well  able  to  show  his  director  the  noble  sides  of  his 
soul  that  the  virtuous  priest  became  convinced  that  Louis 
XIV.  was  doing  injustice  to  his  character  in  not  confiding 
to  him  the  care  of  a  diocese:  He  spoke  of  it  to  Cardinal  de 
Noailles,  whose  candid  soul  was  easily  persuaded  in  favour 
of  the  Abbe*  de  Fleury.  Matters  being  thus,  the  king's  con- 
fessor made  another  attempt.  Louis  XIV.  said  to  him,  "  You 
are  the  dupe  of  a  hypocrite."  "  Sire,"  replied  Pere  Tellier, 
"  two  men  more  enlightened  than  I  am,  and  in  whom  your 
Majesty  places  a  just  confidence,  think  as  I  do."  "Who 
are  they  ? "  asked  the  king.  "  The  Cardinal  de  Noailles  and 
M.  Hubert,"  replied  Tellier.  "  I  will  question  them,"  said  the 
king,  much  surprised  at  what  he  heard.  The  information 
was  favourable  to  the  Abbe*  de  Fleury ;  the  king  yielded,  in 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  117 

spite  of  himself,  to  such  respectable  testimony,  and  the  Abbe* 
de  Fleury  was  appointed  to  the  bishopric  of  Fre'jus.  But  in 
signing  the  nomination  the  king  exacted  from  his  confessor 
that  he  should  render  an  account  to  him  of  the  thanks  he 
received  for  it.  "  You  will  see,"  said  the  king  to  the  Jesuit, 
"  that  all  the  intriguers  at  Versailles  will  come  and  tell  you 
of  their  joy  and  gratitude."  He  was  not  mistaken ;  Louis 
XIV.  knew  his  Court  well. 

The  Bishop  of  Fre'jus  left  it  with  regret  to  go  to  his  diocese. 
Though  neither  liked  nor  esteemed  by  his  master,  he  left 
friends  near  him  who  were  useful  to  him  and  did  justice, 
with  reason,  to  the  services  he  rendered  in  his  diocese  and  to 
Provence.  He  knew  how  to  manage  with  ability  and  dignity 
the  interests  of  his  province;  he  obtained  much  from  the 
Due  de  Savoie,  and  he  deserved  the  respect  and  friendship  of 
that  prince. 

The  sorrows  which  tried  the  great  soul  of  Louis  XIV.  at 
the  close  of  his  reign  are  well  known ;  the  grave  engulfed 
the  heirs  of  the  throne  in  succession.  One  child  alone  re- 
mained in  charge  of  the  Duchesse  de  Ventadour,  an  old  friend 
of  Fleury.  The  Mare*chal  de  Villeroy,  whom  the  king  loved 
(in  spite  of  lost  battles),  because  he  believed  the  marshal 
loved  him,  and  he  knew  his  unalterable  integrity,  was  made 
governor  of  the  young  dauphin.  The  mare'chal  and  Mme.  de 
Ventadour  together  obtained,  in  spite  of  the  king's  resistance, 
the  nomination  of  the  Bishop  of  Fre'jus  as  tutor  to  the  young 
prince.  This  first  step,  which  M.  de  Fre'jus  owed  wholly  to 
his  friends,  was  the  solid  foundation  of  the  great  fortune  and 
boundless  power  that  awaited  him  in  his  old  age. 
,  M.  de  Fre'jus  thought  only  of  pleasing  his  pupil,  and  of 
causing  no  mistrust  to  the  Eegent.  When  Marshal  de 
Villeroy  was  dismissed,  he  cleverly  avoided  the  storm ;  and 
as  he  was  one  day  paying  his  court  to  the  Due  d'0rle*ans 


118  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

with  an  air  of  very  decent  sadness,  the  Eegent  said  to  him : 
"  Here  you  are,  very  much  grieved ;  you  have  lost  your 
benefactor,  your  protector,  your  friend;  but,  after  all,  you 
are  master  of  the  dice.  Oh,  well !  I  am  glad  to  warn  you 
that  if  you  wander  from  the  straight  path  I  shall  have 
twenty-four  hours  ahead  of  you  in  which  to  throw  you  out 
of  the  window."  —  "And  you  will  do  right,  monseigneur," 
replied  M.  de  Fre*jus,  smiling,  in  the  calm  and  gentle  tone 
that  people  of  a  Court  employ,  even  at  times  when  they  are 
most  troubled. 

I  said  that  Cardinal  de  Fleury  thought  only  of  pleasing 
his  pupil;  he  knew  well  that  the  friendship  of  children 
depends  on  the  compliance  shown  to  them,  and  especially  on 
a  little  indulgence  for  their  idleness.  The  child  he  was 
educating  was  king ;  it  was  natural  that  the  ambitious  but 
modest  prelate  should  think  of  establishing  a  sure  founda- 
tion of  confidence  and  predilection  in  the  heart  of  his 
master.  He  succeeded,  perhaps  beyond  his  hopes.  We 
should  praise  the  cardinal  for  having  implanted  JLQ  the  soul 
of  the  king  unchangeable  principles  of  religion ;  but  we 
must  also  blame  him  for  having  [alienated  from  work  a 
prince  born  with  intelligence,  memory,  accuracy  in  dis- 
cernment, and  a  great  desire  to  do  well  and  to  render  every- 
one happy  and  content.  The  Bishop  of  Frdjus  inspired  the 
king,  unfairly,  with  an  immense  distrust  of  himself,  and  as 
great  a  distrust  of  others.  By  this  means,  the  cardinal  made 
sure  of  the  exclusive  power  of  governing  public  affairs. 
Great  God!  that  a  subject  should  be  guilty  of  preventing 
the  master,  father,  judge  of  a  nation  from  learning  the  art  of 
governing  that  nation  and  employing  himself  solely  in  the 
care  of  rendering  it  happy !  How  repair  so  unjust  and 
criminal  a  usurpation  of  power? 

I  heard  M.  de  Somme'ry,  the  king's  sub-governor,  say  that, 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  119 

wishing  one  day  to  know  what  took  place  during  the  lessons 
of  the  tutor  with  his  pupil,  he  entered  the  room  unex- 
pectedly on  some  pretext,  and  found  the  Bishop  of  Fre*jus 
sitting  on  a  stool,  the  king  standing  by  him  and  putting  his 
tutor's  gray  hair  into  curl-papers ;  that  is  not  exactly  the 
way  to  instruct  a  child-king,  but  it  is  certainly  the  way  to 
find  the  secret  of  pleasing  him. 

The  Kegent,  Due  d'0rle*ans,  whose  talents  and  genius 
cannot  be  too  highly  estimated,  but  whose  errors,  on  the  other 
hand,  cannot  be  too  strongly  deplored,  died  in  the  arms  of  a 
mistress.  This  was  a  loss.  He  was  attached  to  the  king, 
no  matter  what  envy  may  say;  and  he  was  more  capable 
than  any  other  of  training  him  in  the  art  of  government. 
After  his  death  the  king  chose  M.  le  Due  for  prime-minister. 
If  integrity  and  good  intentions  could  have  sufficed  to  fill 
that  important  post,  M.  le  Due  might  have  hoped  to  succeed 
in  it ;  but  great  talents  were  lacking  to  him,  and  often 
sound  advice. 

M.  de  Fre*jus  was  beside  the  king,  playing  for  the  public 
the  r6le  of  a  silent  personage,  but  in  reality  ruling  the  mind 
of  his  master.  M.  le  Due  did  nothing  without  communi- 
cating it  to  M.  de  Fre*jus;  the  latter  approved  of  all  in 
the  tete-a-tete  with  the  prime-minister,  but  not  so  in  hk 
t§te-a-te"tes  with  the  king.  PSris-Duverney,  a  man  of  great 
talent  on  many  lines  and  of  a  bold  and  lofty  spirit,  advised 
M.  le  Due  to  ask  the  Bishop  of  Fre*jus  for  a  written  appro- 
bation of  each  project  he  communicated  to  him.  This  pre- 
caution might  have  saved  the  duke;  it  was  an  infallible 
means  of  preventing  M.  de  Fre*jus  from  doing  him  ill-service 
with  the  king,  or  of  convicting  him  of  treachery.  M.  le 
Due  thought  he  had  no  need  of  that  precaution.  When  any- 
thing succeeded  it  was  always  M.  de  Fre*jus  who  had  given 
the  advice ;  whereas,  before  the  public,  M.  le  Due  was  laden 


120  MEMOIRS  AND   LETTERS  OF  [CHAF.  n. 

with  all  the  failures  and  iniquities.  This  odious  and  danger- 
ous r61e  finally  became  annoying  to  the  prime-minister ; 
he  complained  to  the  king  of  M.  de  Fre'jus,  and  the  latter 
asked  to  be  allowed  to  retire  from  Court,  that  he  might  not, 
he  said,  be  a  stone  of  stumbling.  The  king,  in  spite  of  his 
own  wishes,  consented. 

The  bishop  did  not  exile  himself  very  far ;  he  retired  to 
Issy,  two  leagues  only  from  Versailles.  The  king  wrote  to 
him  every  day.  M.  le  Due's  good-nature  was  much  blamed  for 
not  profiting  by  the  occasion  to  send  M.  de  Fre'jus  to  his 
abbey  of  Tournus  near  Chalons.  The  king  regretted  his 
tutor;  he  grew  sad  and  pensive.  The  Due  de  Mortemart, 
first  gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber,  a  man  of  intrepid 
courage,  of  a  probity  that  was  more  than  Eoman,  but  sin- 
gular in  character,  noticed  the  king's  sadness,  divined  the 
cause,  made  the  king  acknowledge  it,  and  had  the  boldness 
to  go  to  Issy  and  bring  back  M.  de  Fre'jus  under  the  very 
eyes  of  M.  le  Due.  From  that  moment  every  one  expected 
the  dismissal  of  the  latter ;  he  alone  would  not  perceive  it ; 
it  is  true  that  the  king,  although  so  young,  could  dissimu- 
late like  an  old  man.  Louis  XIV.  at  nearly  the  same  age 
employed  the  same  art  with  Fouquet.  I  "wish  it  were  not 
made  so  great  a  merit  in  princes  to  know  how  to  play  a 
farce  with  subjects.  M.  le  Due  was  arrested  one  day  as  he 
came  out  from  working  with  the  king,  and  taken  to  Chantilly. 
On  which,  M.  de  Frejus,  who  was  soon  after  [made  cardinal, 
had  all  the  power  of  a  prime-minister,  without  taking  either 
the  title  or  the  show  of  one. 

M.  le  Due  had  made  the  marriage  of  the  queen  [Marie 
Leczinska]  ;  it  was  quite  natural,  therefore,  that  she  should 
feel  gratitude  for  so  great  a  service.  This  feeling  displeased 
the  cardinal;  he  did  not  like  the  queen,  and  was  even 
accused  of  doing  her  ill-turns  with  the  king ;  but  he  took 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  121 

great  pains  to  deceive  her  by  an  air  of  confidence,  and  some- 
times even  of  "gallantry.  Persons  of  the  royal  household 
have  declared  that  this  old  Eminence  set  a  trap  for  the 
queen  which  can  never  be  imagined  or  explained ;  but  the 
queen,  well  advised  by  her  father,  the  King  of  Poland,  had 
the  prudence  not  to  complain  of  it. 

No  ministry  was  ever  longer,  more  absolute,  or  less  stormy 
than  that  of  Cardinal  de  Fleury.  He  possessed  the  heart 
of  his  master  exclusively;  he  had,  besides,  one  great  ad- 
vantage in  disconcerting  intrigues:  not  only  had  he  great 
experience  in  that  art,  but  he  had  seen  the  birth  of  all  the 
courtiers,  he  knew  their  ties  and  intimacies  from  childhood 
and  the  strength  and  weakness  of  their  minds.  Jealous  of 
his  power,  he  nevertheless  was  at  one  time  willing  to  share 
the  burden  of  it  with  M.  Chauvelin,  whom  he  had  always 
liked,  and  who,  in  truth,  had  great  talents,  knew  public 
affairs,  managed  with  adroitness  foreign  courts,  but  was 
never  able  to  take  the  tone  of  that  of  Versailles. 

It  was  said  that  he  showed  too  much  impatience  to 
succeed  his  benefactor.  Becoming  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  he 
shared  the  homage  of  the  Court  with  the  cardinal;  he 
embarked  him  in  the  war  of  1733,  which  was  very  glorious 
for  France  and  gave  to  M.  Chauvelin  a  great  reputation. 
People  are  always  a  little  jealous  of  their  heirs ;  the  cardinal 
became  so  of  this  work  of  his  hands,  and  as  he  could  not  do 
without  a  Keeper  of  the  Seals  while  the  war  lasted,  he  hastened 
to  make  the  Peace  of  Vienna.  M.  Chauvelin  was  arrested, 
sent  first  to  his  Chateau  of  Grosbois,  and  then  to  Bourges. 
It  was  said,  perhaps  wrongfully,  that  the  Marquis  de  Mar- 
tignac,  who  had  passed  as  the  satellite  of  the  Keeper  of  the 
Seals,  denied  the  intimacy  on  one  occasion  after  his  dis- 
missal. The  Duchesse  d'Aumont,  who  was  indignant,  inter- 
rupted him  saying,  "And  the  cock  crew,"  which  made 


122  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

everybody  laugh.  The  saying  was  good,  and  is  worthy  of 
being  preserved. 

After  the  cardinal's  death,  Chauvelin's  friends  advised 
him  to  write  to  the  king  and  send  his  Majesty  a  memorial, 
in  which  the  cardinal  was  harshly  mentioned.  The  king 
saw  in  this  risky  step  ingratitude  and  a  want  of  respect  to 
himself.  M.  Chauvelin  was  relegated  to  Issoire;  his  exile 
lasted  many  years. 

The  Peace  of  Vienna  was  the  crown  of  the  cardinal's 
glory.  If,  after  giving  Lorraine  to  France,  weakening  the 
House  of  Austria,  and  establishing  a  branch  of  that  of  France 
in  Italy,  he  had  had  the  courage  to  abdicate  as  prime- 
minister,  he  would  have  ranked  among  the  greatest  min- 
isters ;  he  would  have  kept  all  his  credit,  all  his  influence 
even,  and  his  memory  would  have  been  held  in  respect  by 
Europe.  But  he  trusted  to  his  immortality  ;  his  health  was 
excellent;  and  by  means  of  a  little  rouge  put  into  water, 
with  which  he  rubbed  his  face,  and  false  teeth,  he  made 
his  enemies  despair  and  deluded  himself.  Moreover,  great 
public  matters  had  never  kept  him  from  sleeping ;  his  head 
was  cool  and  his  stomach  warm.  One  day  when  he  was 
eating  all  sorts  of  unwholesome  things,  some  one  said  to  him 
that  he  risked  making  himself  ill.  "Pooh!"  he  replied, 
"  I  have  a  stomach  that  digests  iron."  M.  de  Campo-Florido, 
Spanish  Ambassador,  a  malicious  monkey,  hearing  the  re- 
mark said,  "  I  am  glad  of  that,  monseigneur ;  for  this  after- 
noon I  have  things  to  say  to  your  Eminence  which  are  hard 
of  digestion." 

Invulnerable  as  the  cardinal  was,  he  had,  nevertheless, 
a  dangerous  illness  at  Fontainebleau,  and  everybody  thought 
he  was  dying;  they  could  not  believe  that  at  his  age  he 
would  recover.  The  Spanish  ambassador,  whom  I  have  just 
mentioned,  was  perpetually  in  his  antechamber  watching 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  123 

for  news  of  his  health,  about  which  they  were  very  inquisi- 
tive in  Spain;  every  one  knew  that  the  queen  (Farnese) 
hated  the  cardinal.  M.  de  Campo,  to  make  himself  sure, 
was  continually  asking  to  see  his  Eminence ;  the  latter,  who 
liked  well  enough  to  make  fools  of  people,  gave  orders,  when 
his  strength  was  returning,  to  let  the  ambassador  come  in. 
M.  de  Campo  found  him  in  an  arm-chair,  looking  more  like 
a  corpse  than  a  living  man;  his  head  was  sunk  into  his 
chest,  and  his  voice,  feeble  and  broken,  seemed  to  come  from 
the  other  world.  The  ambassador,  on  the  testimony  of  his 
own  eyes,  decided  that  his  Eminence  had  not  three  days 
to  live ;  he  went  away  and  immediately  despatched  a  courier 
to  Spain  with  the  good  news.  That  done,  he  returned  to  the 
chateau,  and  the  first  person  he  saw  on  entering  the  king's 
apartments  was  the  cardinal,  straight  as  a  cedar,  rosy  in 
complexion,  finest  teeth  in  the  world,  on  his  way  to  do 
business  with  his  Majesty;  he  bowed  as  he  passed  the 
ambassador,  and  asked  him  if  he  had  not  just  despatched 
a  courier  to  Spain. 

After  the  Peace  of  Vienna  the  cardinal  enjoyed  a  consid- 
eration that  was  almost  universal ;  he  could  flatter  himself  with 
having  won  the  confidence  of  all  the  Courts,  even  those  that 
were  most  inimical  to  ours.  The  Emperor  Charles  VI.  treated 
him  as  a  friend ;  this  prince  had  his  aims ;  he  knew  that  by 
flattering  the  cardinal  he  could  make  France  guarantee  the 
Pragmatic  Sanction  [Article  10  of  the  Treaty  of  Vienna]. 
It  is  a  question  still  to  be  decided  whether  this  guarantee 
was,  or  was  not,  a  great  political  error ;  but  we  are  obliged  to 
agree  that  having  so  solemnly  secured  the  succession  of  the 
House  of  the  States  of  Austria,  France  ought  never  to  have 
invaded  them  on  the  death  of  Charles  VI. ;  and  all  the  more, 
because,  without  striking  a  blow  she  could  have  drawn  great 
advantages  from  that  succession.  But  the  Mare*chal  de  Belle- 


124  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

isle,  for  whom  Madame  de  Le*vis  had  inspired  the  cardinal 
with  a  great  predilection,  presented  very  fine  plans,  and  one 
may  truly  say  that  he  bewitched  his  Eminence  by  a  species 
of  magic  and  made  him  undertake,  against  his  principles 
and  against  his  taste,  an  enterprise  much  above  his  strength, 
and  which  his  great  age  would  not  allow  him  to  see  finished. 
It  was  then  that  the  limits  of  the  cardinal's  capacity  were 
seen ;  he  adopted  a  great  plan  and  had  but  little  power  to  exe- 
cute it ;  he  had  the  grief  to  see  the  treasury  exhausted,  — 
he  who  all  his  life  had  sought  to  replenish  it  by  prudent 
economy,  which  it  may  justly  be  said  he  carried  to  excess. 

He  saw  with  bitterness  that  he  would  survive  his  repu- 
tation, and  perhaps  his  influence;  for  the  king,  who  was 
beginning  to  take  pleasure  in  the  society  of  women,  did  not 
always  show  his  usual  deference  for  the  cardinal's  advice. 
He  finally  died  at  the  seminary  of  Saint-Sulpice  at  Issy, 
January  29,  1743,  in  his  ninetieth  year.  It  has  been  said 
that  he  might  have  made  an  excellent  minister  to  some 
minor  sovereign.  Without  ostentation  himself,  he  set  an 
example  of  general  economy;  orderly  in  his  private  affairs, 
he  liked  order  in  those  of  the  State.  His  spirit  was  wise. 
Violent  methods  were  not  to  his  taste ;  and  if,  on  many 
occasions,  he  did  not  uphold  the  king's  authority  firmly,  he, 
at  any  rate,  seldom  compromised  it.  His  zeal  for  religion 
and  for  the  decency  of  morals  was  most  praiseworthy. 
Possibly  he  might  have  followed  a  better  system  of  healing 
disputes ;  but  it  can  be  said  that  at  his  death  there  was  no 
longer  any  question  of  Jansenism,  the  ashes  of  which  have 
been  of  late  years  very  unwisely  stirred  up.  Under  the  minis- 
try of  Cardinal  de  Fleury,  the  king's  Council  had  more  author- 
ity, and  kept  its  secrets  better ;  the  great  bodies  in  the  State 
were  more  submissive;  the  ministers  more  respected;  and 
France  herself  more  respectable. 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  125 

We  must  also  praise  the~  cardinal  for  having  thought  so 
late  of  elevating  his  family.  If  he  obtained  great  titles  and 
great  places  for  his  nephews,  it  was  not  at  the  expense  of  the 
State  ;  these  gifts  were  pure  favours,  and  the  men  to  whom 
they  were  given  were  among  the  best  and  most  honourable 
persons  in  society. 

I  have  said  the  good ;  I  shall  not  disguise  his  errors. 
The  greatest  of  all,  I  have  already  noted ;  it  was  that  of 
diminishing  in  the  king  any  taste  that  he  might  have  had  for 
work.  The  prince  needed  occupation ;  he  had  all  the  quali- 
ties necessary  for  useful  labour.  The  distrust  with  which 
Cardinal  de  Fleury  inspired  him  for  his  own  ideas  was 
unjust  and  unreasonable. 

Cardinal  de  Fleury  preferred  men  of  mediocrity.  He 
carefully  set  aside  all  who  bore  the  stamp  of  superiority. 
He  wished  to  reign,  and  he  knew  his  weakness.  Economy, 
which  is  the  basis  of  all  administration  of  the  finances,  will 
prevent  their  ruin,  but  is  not  enough  alone  to  regenerate 
them.  Cardinal  de  Fleury  had  none  of  the  views  of  a  great 
minister,  either  on  commerce,  or  on  the  marine,  which  is 
the  strength  of  commerce,  or  on  agriculture,  or  on  popu- 
lation, the  primary  sources  of  the  wealth  and  strength  of 
States.  He  courted  financiers  in  order  to  obtain  from  them, 
at  need,  resources  of  money,  and  by  this  method  he  made 
the  operations  of  the  government  dependent  on  bankers.  It 
is  not  the  wealth  of  a  few  private  individuals  which  ought  to 
sustain  a  State  in  a  crisis;  it  is  rather  the  wealth  of  the 
State  which  should  protect  and  save  the  fortunes  of  subjects. 

And  lastly,  the  cardinal  hated  men  of  letters,  and  gave 
too  little  protection  to  the  arts  and  sciences  which  made  so 
illustrious  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  brought  more  money 
into  his  kingdom  than  his  wars,  often  undertaken  unad- 
visedly, took  out  of  it. 


126  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

One  of  the  first  acquaintances  which  I  made  on  entering 
society  was  Cardinal  de  Polignac,  to  whom,  on  the  paternal 
and  the  maternal  side,  I  have  the  honour  to  be  related.  I 
owe  to  the  friendship  with  which  he  favoured  me  a  tribute 
of  gratitude  to  his  memory;  moreover,  he  well  deserves 
in  other  ways  not  to  be  forgotten. 

Cardinal  de  Polignac  was  one  of  those  men  to  whom 
nothing  is  needed  in  order  to  be  great  but  a  little  more 
vigour  of  character.  No  one  had  a  nobler  air ;  his  person 
would  have  been  imposing  if  gentleness  had  not  tempered 
its  majesty.  He  spoke  with  grace  and  eloquence ;  one  did 
not  notice  that  he  spoke  at  too  great  length  until  one  was 
no  longer  with  him.  His  memory  was  as  correct  as  it  was 
well-furnished ;  his  knowledge  extended  over  many  matters ; 
it  might,  however,  have  been  desired  that  the  depth  of  that 
knowledge  had  equalled  its  extent.  He  played  a  great 
part  in  the  world  without  ever  having  been  fortunate  or 
sufficiently  able.  He  committed  imprudences  in  Poland ;  he 
brought  back  from  Gertruydenberg  only  the  fame  of  having 
spoken  eloquently.  One  of  the  plenipotentiaries  of  the  Dutch 
republic  said  of  him :  "  It  must  be  acknowledged  that  the 
Abbe*  de  Polignac  did  his  humanities  well."  At  Utrecht  he 
showed  that  he  was  not  well  informed  on  the  boundaries  of 
Acadia  (which  are  to-day  the  cause  of  our  war  with  Eng- 
land), nor  on  the  importance  of  the  valleys  ceded  to  the 
king  of  Sardinia.  The  Peace  of  Utrecht  does  him,  neverthe- 
less, great  honour.  To  properly  judge  of  a  work  we  must 
enter  into  all  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was  done. 

In  Home,  Cardinal  de  Polignac  acquired  a  less  disputed 
reputation.  Magnificent,  loving  antiquities,  knowing  the 
arts,  cordial  to  artists,  he  was  there  in  his  element.  His 
palace  was  a  species  of  academy,  where  more  dissertations 
were  made  than  diplomatic  business  done.  Despatches 


Riacutd. 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  127 

were  often  sacrificed  to  the  Muses,  and  the  reading  of  works 
of  intellect  delayed  the  departure  of  couriers.  It  may  be 
said  that  Cardinal  de  Polignac  had  all  the  knowledge  that 
belongs  to  a  statesman,  and  even  the  views  of  one,  but  not 
the  character ;  his  soul  was  too  soft  and  too  indolent. 

No  one  ever  had  as  much  coquetry  of  the  mind  as  he ;  he 
wanted  to  please  and  to  be  liked.  This  weakness  led  him  into 
the  commission  of  many  faults.  It  dragged  him  into  the 
miserable  intrigues  of  the  Duchesse  du  Maine,  which  caused 
him  to  be  exiled  for  the  second  time.  If  the  cardinal  had  died 
in  Kome,  or  in  his  archbishopric,  he  would  have  left  behind 
him  a  great  reputation  ;  but  he  returned  to  Paris  with  the  idea 
of  playing  the  grand  personage  by  the  mere  weight  of  his 
name,  his  talents,  and  his  services.  Honest  man  and  citizen, 
he  disdained  intrigues,  and  refused  himself  to  the  Jansenist 
party  which  opened  its  arms  to  him.  Cardinal  de  Fleury 
ceased  to  fear  him,  and  even  dared  to  turn  him  into  ridicule ; 
many  others,  following  this  example,  were  as  bold :  so  that 
this  man,  so  distinguished  for  his  birth,  his  intellect,  and  his 
dignities,  was  reduced  to  being  the  ornament  of  the  academies. 

I  have  said  somewhere  that  he  was  not  averse  to  the  mar- 
vellous ;  I  do  not  mean  that  his  mind  was  weak,  but  before 
deciding  that  anything  was  impossible  he  wished  to  fathom 
it  in  every  direction,  and  know  all  that  could  be  said  about 
it,  both  for  and  against.  He  was  relating  one  day  the  legend 
of  Saint-Denis,  and  how  that  saint  had  carried  his  head  in 
his  hands  for  a  distance  of  several  leagues.  A  clever  woman, 
impatient  with  the  tale,  said  very  wittily :  "  The  number  of 
leagues  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,  monseigneur ;  c'est  le  pre- 
mier pas  qui  cotite" 

No  one  employed  better  than  he,  nor  for  a  longer  time,  the 
right  of  speech.  Some  one  asked  Voltaire  one  day  :  "  Where 
are  you  going  so  early  ?  "  "I  am  going,"  he  replied,  "  to  listen 


128  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

to  a  monologue  by  Cardinal  de  Polignac."  M.  de  Mairan, 
referring  to  the  same  thing,  wanted  a  portrait  made  of  the 
cardinal  in  which  he  should  be  represented  seated  comfortably 
in  an  arm-chair,  his  hand  stretched  forth  a  little,  in  the  atti- 
tude of  a  man  who  is  talking,  and  around  him  an  infinitude 
of  ears,  women's  little  ears,  philosophers'  big  ears,  the  ears  of 
theologians,  archaeologists,  artists  ;  beneath  which  should  be 
inscribed  the  words:  "The  Paradise  of  Polignac." 

In  spite  of  these  jests,  it  may  be  said  that  M.  de  Polignac 
was  a  rare  man,  who  did  honour  to  his  epoch.  The  Latin 
poem  he  left  behind  him  [Anti-Lucretius,  sive  de  Deo  et 
natura ;  libri  novem]  is  more  esteemed  by  foreigners  than  by 
Frenchmen.  Latin  poetry  has  declined  in  France,  the  phil- 
osophy of  Descartes  still  more  so ;  but  this  work  alone  would 
have  won  for  Cardinal  de  Polignac  a  distinguished  place  in 
men's  esteem,  had  he  had  no  other  claim  to  it. 

I  owe  to  the  confidence  of  this  celebrated  man,  and  to  the 
pleasure  he  took  hi  instructing  me,  a  great  quantity  of  detailed 
knowledge  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  books.  From  the 
time  I  was  twenty  I  seldom  passed  a  day  without  conversing 
with  Cardinal  de  Polignac  for  an  hour  or  more;  he  was  a 
universal  dictionary  which  I  went  to  consult.  He  put  me 
into  communication  with  his  oldest  friends  ;  M.  de  Torcy  was 
one  of  them.  This  minister  is  known  for  his  Memoirs,  which 
are  written  with  much  nobleness,  simplicity,  and  truth ;  but 
the  virtues  of  M.  de  Torcy  were  much  above  his  talents.  It 
was  also  through  Cardinal  de  Polignac  that  I  made  acquaint- 
ance with  Chancellor  d'Aguesseau,  that  great  and  virtuous 
magistrate,  who  had  no  other  defect  than  that  of  being  some- 
times undecided  by  force  of  having  many  ideas. 

It  will  be  supposed,  of  course,  that  Cardinal  de  Polignac 
presented  me  to  the  Duchesse  du  Maine,  by  whom  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  be  loved  all  his  life.  This  princess  had 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  129 

great  intelligence ;  she  had  the  art  of  preserving  around  her 
the  air  of  a  Court,  and  of  gathering  at  Sceaux  the  sciences, 
the  arts,  and  at  the  same  time  all  that  there  was  of  sublime 
and  frivolous,  best  and  worst  company  in  Paris.  Mme.  de  Staal 
de  Launay,  whose  Memoirs  we  have,  had  fixed  the  favour  of 
this  fickle  princess  by  force  of  merit.  The  Duchesse  du 
Maine  always  passed  rapidly  from  serious  things  to  trifles, 
from  the  Academy  of  Sciences  to  a  puppet-show.  The  Coun- 
tess of  Sandwich  (who  had  the  most  masculine  face  and  mind 
that  I  have  ever  known  in  any  woman)  said  of  Mme.  du 
Maine,  with  whom  she  passed  her  life :  "  If  the  duchess 
had  the  sceptre  of  the  world,  she  would  find  the  way  to  make 
a  rattle  of  it."  The  definition  was  correct. 

It  was  in  the  society  of  eminent  and  enlightened  persons 
that  I  passed  my  youth ;  my  productions  were  welcomed 
there,  and  thence  I  drew  my  first  lessons  in  taste  and  the 
usages  of  social  life.  I  was,  besides,  in  close  intimacy  with 
Fontenelle,  President  Montesquieu,  and  the  other  "beaux 
esprits  of  the  period.  The  amateurs  of  art  were  all  acquaint- 
ances of  mine.  Foreigners  of  distinction  did  not  escape  me. 
My  plan  was  to  know  all  Europe  without  leaving  Paris ;  to 
fathom  the  manners  and  morals  of  all  societies  and  States ; 
in  a  word,  to  study  men  rather  than  books.  This  study  has 
since  been  very  useful  to  me. 

Pere  Tournemine,  the  Jesuit,  whom  I  have  already  men- 
tioned, proposed  to  Cardinal  de  Polignac  to  give  me  his  Latin 
poem  of  "Anti-Lucretius"  to  translate  into  French  verse. 
The  cardinal  told  me  I  could  do  better;  that  he  himself 
had  only  attacked  the  materialists,  but  that  in  a  work  of  the 
same  character  I  could  fight  with  the  sceptics.  My  spirit 
was  fired  by  this  advice,  and  I  began  at  once  my  poem  called 
"Eeligion;"  I  composed  the  first  four  cantos  in  1737  with 
surprising  facility.  I  carried  weekly  to  the  cardinal  what  I 

VOL.   I.  — 9 


130  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OP  [CHAP.  n. 

wrote,  and  read  it  before  the  most  distinguished  men  of 
letters;  so  it  is  seen  that  all  the  works  of  my  youth  were 
not  frivolous. 

Cardinal  de  Polignac  died  November,  1741,  at  the  age  of 
eighty-one,  with  much  religion,  courage,  and  presence  of 
mind.  I  have  a  fancy  to  add  to  this  account  of  him 
certain  verses  of  the  Duchesse  du  Maine,  which  describe 
her  Ion  ami  marvellously  well :  — 

"  De  son  divin  Systems 
Polignac  penetre*, 
Va  voir  l'£tre  supreme 
Qu'il  nous  a  demontre". 
II  se  met  en  cheinin ; 
Mais  bientot  tout  1'arrete 
Bois,  bergers,  et  moutons,  don,  don  ; 
Partout  il  s'arreta,  la,  la ; 
Bref,  il  manqua  la  fete." 

The  famous  Ninon  1'Enclos,  to  whom  they  presented  him, 
as  the  fashion  was,  when  twelve  years  old,  said,  after  asking 
him  many  questions  :  "  Some  day  he  will  have  more  wit 
than  he  needs;  and  that  is  a  great  pity." 

The  agreeable  life  that  I  led  in  the  world  had  procured 
me  many  friends,  and  a  rather  great  celebrity ;  but  fortune, 
which  I  neglected,  never  ceased  to  ill-treat  me.  I  was  ap- 
pointed in  1739  to  a  canonry  at  Brioude  in  Auvergne ;  it  was 
a  suitable  place  for  a  gentleman,  but  the  revenue  was  very 
insufficient.  I  left  Paris  to  take  possession  of  my  county  — 
that  is  how  they  call  the  canonries  of  Brioude.  The  church 
of  Saint-^Etienne  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  of  the  Gauls ;  its 
chapter  dates  back  to  the  reign  of  Clovis  the  Second ;  it  is 
necessary  for  a  candidate  to  produce  proof  of  four  generations 
of  nobility,  on  the  side  of  both  father  and  mother. 

I  recovered  in  Auvergne  from  the  prejudice  that  a  man 
can  live  nowhere  but  in  Paris ;  I  found  in  that  province 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  131 

men  of  solid  minds,  and  sometimes  agreeable  men.  I  lived 
there  a  year,  and  made  the  nattering  conquest  of  M. 
Massillon,  Bishop  of  Clermont.  That  excellent  man  passed 
part  of  the  year  at  the  country-house  of  Beauregard,  so-called 
on  account  of  the  beauty  and  singularity  of  its  situation. 
It  was  in  this  retreat  that  M.  Massillon  retouched  and  ar- 
ranged the  admirable  sermons  which  have  appeared  since 
his  death.  I  have  never  known  a  man  who,  with  the 
simplest  exterior,  inspired  more  easily  veneration  and  love. 
His  mind  developed  only  by  degrees;  but  once  roused,  it 
took  on  the  most  brilliant  yet  the  most  natural  colours. 
Adored  in  his  diocese,  he  had  banished  from  it  all  disputes 
about  religion,  though  Clermont  was  one  of  the  cradles  of 
Jansenism.  One  day  when  he  was  showing  his  garden  at 
Beauregard  to  a  foreigner,  and  the  foreigner  was  exclaiming 
at  the  beauty  and  richness  of  the  view,  he  said  :  "  Come  into 
this  path  and  I  will  show  you  something  more  remarkable 
than  all  that."  The  path  was  dark,  and  the  foreigner  ex- 
pressed his  surprise  at  seeing  nothing  remarkable.  "  What ! " 
said  M.  Massillon,  "don't  you  see  that  Jesuit  and  that 
Father  from  the  Oratoire  playing  ball  together?  That  is 
what  I  have  brought  them  to." 

I  showed  M.  Massillon  the  first  four  cantos  of  my  poem 
against  sceptics ;  he  exhorted  me  to  extend  the  work  and 
finish  it.  He  wanted  to  attach  me  to  the  Church,  to  give 
me  Orders,  and  make  me  his  grand-vicar,  saying :  "  I  have 
only  my  reputation,  but  there  is  some  regard  still  paid  to 
that  at  Versailles ;  you  will  be  sooner  a  bishop  by  working 
under  my  eyes  than  if  you  attach  yourself  to  some  great 
seigneur."  I  made  him  understand,  with  great  detail,  the 
motives  of  religion  and  honesty  which  forbade  me  to  take 
that  course.  He  approved  of  my  scruples,  and  liked  and 
esteemed  me  the  more  for  them. 


132  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  rr. 

But  he  advised  me  to  attach  myself  to  Foreign  Affairs, 
and  told  me  that  I  should  have  much  success  in  the  career 
of  negotiation.  He  made  me  promise,  moreover,  that  on  my 
return  to  Paris  I  would  have  an  explanation  with  Cardinal 
de  Fleury.  "  You  know  how  to  speak,"  he  said ;  "  your 
frankness  and  candour  create  an  interest  in  you ;  the  harsh- 
est men  do  not  hold  out  against  that  seduction ;  perhaps  you 
will  bring  the  cardinal  back  to  you ;  at  any  rate,  you  lose 
nothing  by  attempting  it."  I  promised  to  follow  his  advice, 
and  did  so  in  1743,  with  what  result  will  be  seen  presently. 

From  Auvergne  I  went  to  Languedoc,  where  I  spent  three 
months  with  my  father.  I  did  not  think  from  the  good 
health  in  which  I  found  him  that  I  should  lose  him  in  two 
years.  I  composed  in  his  house,  without  any  assistance 
from  books,  the  six  last  cantos  of  my  poem  on  "  Keligion." l 
It  would  hardly  be  believed  with  what  ease  I  wrote  in  those 
days.  The  canto  of  "Pyrrhonism,"  which  contains  nearly 
eight  hundred  lines,  was  begun  and  ended  in  twenty-four 
hours  without  any  interval;  and  I  ought  to  say  that  such 
rapid  work  did  not  need  as  much  correction  as  might  be 
supposed.  That  poem  finished,  I  returned  to  Paris,  with 
my  portfolio  full,  but  with  very  little  money;  which  did 
not  cause  me  any  anxiety;  at  the  bottom  of  my  soul  I 
always  found  hope,  and  a  species  of  certainty  to  make  my 
way  to  fortune. 

I  did  not  find  Paris  cold  to  me  on  my  return  from  Lan- 
guedoc. My  ideas  had  ripened  in  retirement ;  my  spirit  was 
more  manly,  and  my  imagination  had  lost  nothing;  bril- 
liant health,  and  twenty-five  years  of  age  are  always  well- 

1  The  following  are  the  titles  of  the  ten  cantos :  1.  Introduction. 
2.  Idolatry.  3.  Atheism.  4.  Materialism  of  Epicurus.  5.  Spinozaism. 
6.  Deism.  7.  Pyrrhonism.  8.  Heresy.  9.  Corruption  of  mind  and 
morals.  10.  The  Triumph  of  Religion. 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  133 

received  in  the  great  world.  The  fashion  of  mind  and 
intelligence  had  not  passed ;  we  may  even  say  the  malady 
was  epidemic.  My  poem  of  "  Eeligion  "  excited  much  curi- 
osity; men  of  letters  and  men  of  society  were  equally 
desirous  of  hearing  it,  and  it  was  good  style  to  have  listened 
to  it. 

One  circumstance,  which  I  shall  here  relate,  aided  my 
celebrity.  I  remembered  the  promise  I  had  made  to  the 
Bishop  of  Clermont  and  I  resolved  to  have  an  explanation 
with  Cardinal  de  Fleury.  Barjac,  that  famous  valet-de- 
chambre  to  whom  nearly  the  whole  Court  cringed,  but  who 
never  forgot  himself,  arranged  an  interview  for  me  with  his 
master.  He  announced  me  to  his  Eminence,  whom  I  can 
see  now,  leaning  upon  a  little  table  with  a  large  hat  on  his 
head.  As  he  heard  me  named  he  bowed  and  said,  shaking 
his  head  a  little,  "  Ah !  ah ! " 

I  went  forward  with  a  modest  but  confident  manner,  and 
said :  "  Monseigneur,  as  long  as  I  was  a  mere  child  I  re- 
spected the  prejudices  of  your  Eminence,  but  to-day  I  am 
of  an  age  to  endeavour  to  remove  them ;  honour  even  makes 
it  a  duty  to  do  so.  I  have  come  to  ask  your  Eminence 
how  it  was  that  I,  so  young,  could  have  been  so  undeserving 
as  to  displease  the  king ;  of  what  am  I  accused  ?  Have  I 
failed  in  religion,  in  my  duty  as  a  subject,  in  honesty  —  ? " 

"  Monsieur,"  interrupted  the  cardinal,  "  you  are  taking  the 
matter  in  a  very  grave  way :  you  are  not  blamed  for  any- 
thing that  affects  principles.  But  you  have  no  vocation." 

"You  reassure  me,"  I  replied.  "God  alone  reads  the 
heart;  and  since  your  Excellency  has  nothing  essential 
against  me,  I  venture  to  claim  the  kindness  which  you 
promised  to  my  father;  if  I  am  guilty  of  none  but  the 
follies  of  youth,  I  could  tell  you  more  of  those  than  you 
know,  and  I  do  not  believe  they  would  injure  me  in  your 


134  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  IL 

mind,  for  every  man  has  been  young;  therefore  I  entreat 
your  Eminence  to  come  to  my  assistance  —  " 

I  saw,  toward  the  end  of  my  harangue  that  the  cardinal's 
face  darkened,  and  here  he  interrupted  me  with  temper  and 
said  in  a  harsh  tone,  "  Oh !  monsieur,  as  long  as  I  live  you 
shall  never  have  a  benefice." 

"  Well,  then,  monseigneur,  I  will  wait,"  I  replied,  making 
him  a  low  bow. 

I  perceived  as  I  withdrew  that  the  cardinal  thought  the 
speech  witty  ;  and  it  was  he  who  divulged  it.  All  the  good 
company  of  the  Court  and  city  applauded  it.  They  thought 
it  simple,  noble,  courageous,  and  decent.  It  wounded  an  old 
man  and  disarmed  him  at  the  same  time.  In  short,  the 
speech  had  a  great  vogue ;  every  one  was  curious  to  see  a 
young  man  who  had  dared  to  give  a  rap  to  an  all-powerful 
minister.  That  speech,  which  became  celebrated,  seemed 
to  square  so  well  with  the  events  of  my  life  that  I  took  it 
for  my  motto,  and  I  say  to-day,  as  in  1742,  "I  will 
wait." 

The  cardinal  did  not  make  me  wait  long;  he  died  in 
1743.  The  king,  who  was,  they  said,  very  weary  of  him, 
seemed  to  regret  him;  but  he  soon  consoled  himself  and 
never  mentioned  his  name  for  many  years.  It  is  only  lately 
that  he  has  spoken  of  him,  when  occasion  offers,  without 
praise  or  blame. 

As  for  me,  I  gained  nothing  by  the  cardinal's  death.  His 
successor  in  the  ministry  of  Church  Affairs,  Boyer,  Bishop 
of  Mirepoix,  put  such  conditions  to  the  favours  I  asked  that 
my  way  of  thinking  would  not  allow  me  to  accept  them. 

This  bishop  received  the  portfolio  of  benefices  immediately 
after  the  death  of  Cardinal  de  Fleury,  and  it  may  be  said 
that  he  knew  how  to  make  himself  master  of  his  department, 
and  that  no  one  had  power  or  any  real  influence  over  his 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  135 

mind.  His  intentions  were  upright,  but  his  discernment 
was  not  brilliant.  He  did  not  like  the  nobles,  and  preferred 
to  be  deceived  by  obscure  persons.  He  conducted  the  affairs 
of  religion  with  more  zeal  than  prudence.  The  ministry  of 
Cardinal  de  Fleury  had  almost  annihilated  Jansenism  in 
France.  The  Convulsionaries  had  cast  great  ridicule  on  the 
party ;  the  celebrated  writers  who  had  defended  it  were 
dead ;  only  one  suspected  bishop  was  left,  and  he  had  one 
foot  in  the  grave.  It  was  now  necessary  to  simply  establish 
in  the  Church  the  grounds  of  fixed  doctrine,  to  oppose  con- 
tempt and  silence  to  the  vain  efforts  of  an  expiring  faction, 
and  all  would  have  been  ended;  the  Church  and  State 
would  have  enjoyed  a  continued  tranquillity.  The  Bishop 
of  Mirepoix,  by  dint  of  zeal  and  harshness,  contrived  to 
rekindle  the  dying  embers  of  Jansenism.  He  was  the  cause, 
or  the  occasion,  of  the  protection  which  the  parliaments  gave 
to  it ;  in  a  word,  that  party  recovered  its  strength.  Would 
it  not  have  been  wiser  and  safer  to  allow  it  to  die  a  lingering 
death  ? 

The  Bishop  of  Mirepoix  thought  he  possessed  a  very 
singular  talent.  He  believed  he  read  characters  on  counte- 
nances, and  this  uncertain  science  often  decided  him  in 
making  important  choices.  In  other  respects  the  bishop 
had  no  knowledge  of  the  world  nor  of  the  Court.  The  King 
of  Spain  had  charged  his  ambassador  M.  de  Campo-Florido 
to  ask  the  king  for  a  benefice  for  an  ecclesiastic  who  had 
been  a  monk,  and  whom  his  Catholic  Majesty  protected. 
The  king  sent  the  ambassador  to  the  Bishop  of  Mirepoix. 
M.  de  Campo  went  to  see  the  prelate  on  Ash- Wednesday, 
and  told  him  his  mission,  which  was  very  ill-received,  and 
as  the  ambassador  insisted,  in  the  name  of  the  king  and  the 
name  of  his  own  master,  the  bishop  said  angrily,  "  How  can 
you  expect  me  to  give  an  abbey  to  a  man  who  has  been 


136  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  u. 

a  monk  ? "  "  Moussiou,  memento  homo,"  replied  the  ambas- 
sador, walking  away. 

M.  de  Mirepoix  had  not  inherited  Cardinal  de  Fleury's 
prejudices  against  me.  A  Benedictine  who  had  written 
against  the  Convulsionaries  (and  who,  by  the  bye,  instead  of 
stamping  the  pretended  miracles  as  false,  adopted  the  danger- 
ous principle  of  explaining  events  that  seemed  to  him  super- 
natural by  the  power  of  the  devil),  this  Benedictine,  I  say, 
becoming  Bishop  of  Bethlehem,  was  the  oracle  of  M.  de 
Mirepoix,  and  had  taken  such  a  friendship  for  me  that  long 
before  the  latter  was  minister  of  benefices,  he  had  inspired 
him  with  a  high  idea  of  my  talents  and  a  desire  to  attach  me 
to  the  Church.  So  now  the  Bishop  of  Bethlehem  introduced 
me  to  the  Bishop  of  Mirepoix  by  a  letter,  in  which,  thinking 
to  make  my  court  to  the  prelate,  he  spoke  advantageously  of 
my  poem  of  "  Eeligion."  He  knew  him  ill.  M.  de  Mirepoix 
received  me  in  relation  to  that  work  as  if  I  had  written  the 
tales  of  La  Fontaine.  I  saw  with  surprise  the  limits  of  his 
intelligence.  It  was  necessary  to  explain  to  him  that  poesy 
had  always  been  consecrated  to  religion;  that  the  Psalms, 
the  Song  of  Songs,  the  Book  of  Job  were  poems ;  that  the 
fathers  of  the  Church  had  fought  heresy  with  verses ;  and 
finally,  that  the  Church  had  blessed  the  use  of  hymns  and 
canticles.  He  could  not  answer  my  arguments,  but  he  kept 
his  prejudices.  To  make  my  peace,  we  agreed  that  nothing 
further  should  be  said  about  my  poem,  but  that  it  should  not 
be  considered  an  irremissible  crime  to  have  occupied  my 
youth  with  a  defence  of  religion. 

These  preliminaries  signed,  we  entered  upon  the  main 
subject.  The  Bishop  of  Mirepoix  said  to  me  these  very 
words  :  "  You  have  great  talents  ;  you  must  consecrate  them 
to  the  Church,  and  take  the  final  vows.  Monsieur,"  he 
added,  pressing  my  hand,  "  it  is  in  the  name  of  the  Church 


1735-1744]  CAEDINAL  DE  BEENIS.  137 

that  I  speak  to  you ;  sub-deacon,  an  abbey ;  priest,  two  years 
grand-vicar,  then  bishop." 

"  Monseigneur,"  I  replied, "  I  advise  you  not  to  make  those 
offers  to  every  man ;  you  would  have  them  accepted ;  as  for 
me,  I  will  reflect  upon  them." 

"  Monsieur,"  added  the  bishop,  hastily,  "  if  you  do  not  take 
Orders,  you  will  have  nothing." 

"  I  will  reflect,"  I  saici,  "  and  let  you  know  my  decision ; 
be  sure  that  it  will  conform  to  religion  and  honour." 

I  reflected  that  my  fortune  depended  on  the  course  I  should 
now  take.  All  my  friends  advised  me  to  defer  to  the  opinion 
of  M.  de  Mirepoix.  As  for  me,  I  felt  an  invincible  repug- 
nance to  make  those  sacred  vows  from  the  double  motive  of 
interest  and  ambition.  I  informed  the  bishop  of  my  way  of 
thinking ;  he  approved  it,  while  informing  me  that  I  could 
look  for  no  ecclesiastical  favours.  Some  years  later,  the 
king  had  the  kindness  to  speak  to  M.  de  Mirepoix  for  me 
about  an  abbey ;  the  bishop  intrenched  himself  behind  the 
fact  that  I  was  not  in  Orders.  I  was  strongly  urged  to  take 
them ;  but  I  was  immovable,  preferring  an  honourable  poverty 
to  an  opulence  ill-obtained.1  I  have  always  ascribed  to  that 
act  of  honesty  and  courage,  not  only  the  esteem  with  which 
the  king  has  honoured  me,  but  even  the  fortune  I  have  since 
made. 

The  king  gave  way  to  M.  de  Mirepoix's  resistance,  but  he 
gave  me  a  pension  of  1,500  francs  out  of  his  privy-purse. 


1  The  following  anecdote  I  hold  from  M.  Firmin-Didot  himself,  who  told 
me  he  had  it  from  the  original  and  from  tradition.  Bernis,  in  the  days  of 
his  great  poverty  and  his  dinners  with  Diderot  at  six  sous  a  head,  was 
employed  as  proof-reader  by  the  publishing  and  printing-house  of  Didot, 
great-grandfather  of  my  informant.  There  he  had  his  lodging  and  break- 
fast with  the  family.  One  day  the  head  of  the  house,  not  seeing  him,  said ; 
"  Is  not  Bernis  coming  to  breakfast  ?  "  "  No,"  said  one  of  the  family, 
"  he  is  busy  just  now ;  he  is  mending  his  breeches."  —  SAINTE-BEUVE, 


138  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

It  will  be  seen  under  what  circumstances  and  from  what 
motives  I  finally  took  Holy  Orders,  being  then  ambassador  in 
Venice.  As  long  as  the  Bishop  of  Mirepoix  lived  I  neither 
solicited  him  nor  allowed  him  to  be  solicited  in  my  behalf. 
Pope  Benedict  XIV.  appointed  me  in  1749  to  a  benefice  hi 
Bretagne  [the  pope  disposing  for  eight  months  of  the  year  of 
all  benefices  falling  vacant  in  that  province  during  that  time]. 
The  Bishop  of  Mirepoix  congratulated  me.  I  said  to  him, 
"  The  pope  has  raised  the  interdict  you  put  upon  me."  That 
speech  made  the  Court  laugh.  It  was  the  only  revenge  I 
allowed  myself  against  the  bishop's  harshness.  But  that 
harshness  was  vanquished  in  the  end.  On  my  return  from 
Venice  in  1755, 1  obtained  the  abbey  of  Saint-Arnould,  and  it 
was  M.  de  Mirepoix  who  bestowed  it,  with  all  the  grace  in 
the  world.  I  may  call  it  his  swan's-song ;  he  died  six  weeks 
after  announcing  to  me  that  gift  of  the  king.  He  had  never 
been  much  esteemed,  and  was  little  regretted. 

My  life  up  to  the  year  1744  had  been  nothing  but  a  series 
of  disappointments,  for  which  the  pleasure  of  being  loved  and 
valued  was  the  only  compensation.  I  had  just  closed  to  my- 
self the  door  of  benefices ;  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  find 
another  career.  I  bethought  me  of  entering  the  French  Acad- 
emy. The  Academy  was,  as  the  Abbe*  de  la  Bletterie  wittily 
said  to  the  dowager  Duchesse  d'Aiguillon,  "  the  tabouret  of 
talent."  It  was  pleasant  to  enter  that  Company  at  my  age, 
and  I  desired  to  take  my  place  there  more  as  a  man  of  rank 
than  as  a  writer.  I  took,  in  consequence,  the  proper  steps. 
All  the  best  company  of  Paris  and  Versailles  interested 
themselves  for  me.  Mme.  de  Tencin  put  herself  at  the  head 
of  the  opposite  party.  We  had  to  give  battle ;  the  combat 
was  long,  and  victory  for  a  long  time  was  undecided.  I  shall 
remark,  in  passing,  that  I  have  always  obtained  that  which 
I  strongly  desired  ;  although  it  is  true  that  fortune  has  con- 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  139 

tested  her  favours,  and  I  was  forced  to  snatch  them.  The  king 
fell  ill  at  Metz ;  and  my  adversaries  profited  by  that  event  to 
postpone  the  election  to  the  Academy. 

The  king's  illness  made  him  know  the  hearts  of  his  sub- 
jects. Never  was  grief  more  keen  or  more  universal;  it 
can  only  be  compared  to  the  intoxication  of  joy  which  the 
return  of  the  health  of  the  monarch  caused.  I  shall  not 
relate  here  all  the  intrigues  at  Metz  during  this  illness,  and 
the  dismissal  of  Mme.  de  Cha*teauroux  and  her  sister.  The 
Bishop  of  Soissons  was  exiled,  and  so  were  the  Dues  de 
Chatillon  and  de  La  Kochefoucauld.  I  neither  justify  nor 
blame  their  conduct ;  we  may  suppose  their  motives  to  have 
been  good,  inasmuch  as  every  one  does  homage  to  their  integ- 
rity. I  shall  only  say,  in  regard  to  M.  de  Soissons,  that  it  is 
sometimes  a  most  unfortunate  thing  to  be  forced  to  tell  the 
truth  to  princes ;  and,  in  regard  to  the  others,  that  you  must 
never  think  a  king  dead  until  he  is  really  so,  and  that  mean- 
time you  should  behave  as  if  he  were  not  ill  at  all. 

The  king,  escaping  the  grave,  went  in  very  severe  weather 
to  the  conquest  of  Fribourg ;  he  returned  triumphant  to  Paris, 
and  this  prince  who,  a  month  earlier,  was  the  idol  of  all 
hearts,  was  received  with  very  faint  applause  in  his  capital. 
The  rumour  had  spread  that  he  intended  to  take  back 
Mme.  de  Chateauroux.  Nothing  more  was  needed  to  chill 
all  hearts.  The  people,  corrupt  as  they  are,  desire  then-  kings 
to  love  their  wives ;  they  know,  moreover,  that  mistresses  do 
not  diminish  taxes. 

I  must  here  relate  a  circumstance  which  plainly  shows 
the  nature  of  courtiers.  M.  de  Villeneuve,  former  ambassa- 
dor to  the  Porte,  had  been  appointed  minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs.  The  king  on  his  return  from  Fribourg,  lodged  in 
the  Tuileries  ;  an  immense  crowd  attended  his  lever ;  I  was 
there ;  it  was  impossible  to  stir.  M.  de  Villeneuve  had  not 


140  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

yet  seen  the  king  since  his  appointment ;  he  came  to  thank 
him,  so  it  was  supposed,  for  the  office  confided  to  him.  His 
external  appeararice  was  not  imposing ;  but  the  vast  crowd 
opened  to  let  him  pass,  and  an  air  of  respect  was  visible  on 
all  faces.  He  entered  the  king's  presence ;  in  a  few  moments 
the  news  flew  about  that  M.  de  Villeneuve  had  told  the 
king  that  the  mediocrity  of  his  talents  and  the  bad  state  of 
his  health  did  not  permit  him  to  take  upon  himself  so  great 
a  burden :  it  was  the  act  of  a  wise  and  virtuous  citizen. 
The  king  yielded  to  his  entreaty,  which  was  known  at  once 
in  the  antechamber,  and  when  M.  de  Villeneuve  came  out 
no  one  would  make  way  for  a  personage  before  whom  ten 
minutes  earlier  they  had  prostrated  themselves.  The  Due 
d'Orle'ans,  regent,  once  said  of  a  man  at  Court  "  He  is  a  per- 
fect courtier  —  without  honour  and  without  temper."  The 
definition  would  have  been  perfect  if  he  had  added,  "  with- 
out shame." 

In  spite  of  the  intrigues  of  Mme.  de  Tencin,  I  was  received 
at  the  French  Academy,  the  duties  of  which  place  I  fulfilled 
for  several  years  with  punctuality  and  some  distinction.  I 
soon  became  the  friend  of  my  colleagues  and  the  benefactor 
of  those  who  had  opposed  me.  But,  content  with  having 
made  myself  a  name  in  letters,  I  did  not  wish  it  to  be  thought 
that  I  confined  myself  to  cultivating  them.  Too  great  an 
assiduity  at  the  sessions  of  the  Academy  would  have  been 
harmful  to  the  views  that  I  was  beginning  to  have.  I 
avoided  therefore  the  sort  of  ridicule  that  people  in  society 
would  certainly  have  put  upon  me,  and  by  this  conduct  I 
saved  myself  from  the  danger  there  is  from  satire  to  those  who 
live  closely  with  men  of  letters.  M.  Piron  said  a  very  good 
thing  about  my  entrance  at  the  Academy  :  "  We  are  getting 
the  Invalids  very  young." 

Before  continuing  the  history  of  my  life,  which  will  soon 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERtflS.  141 

become  more  interesting,  I  think  I  ought  to  make  known  the 
three  classes  of  persons  with  whom  in  my  youth  I  chiefly 
lived  :  men  of  letters,  women,  and  great  seigneurs. 

First,  men  of  letters.  The  essential  and  distinctive  charac- 
ter of  these  men  is  self-love.  This  is  what  often  makes  inter- 
course with  them  both  fatiguing  and  dangerous ;  fatiguing, 
because  we  must  compel  ourselves  to  praise  them  constantly, 
or  to  hear  them  praise  themselves ;  dangerous,  because  the 
least  scratch  to  their  vanity  kindles  their  hatred  and  excites 
their  vengeance.  A  woman  never  pardons  a  disparagement 
made  upon  her  face;  the  man  of  letters  never  forgets  a 
want  of  respect  for  his  mind.  Thus  I  advise  men  of  sense 
never  to  quarrel  with  authors,  or  else  to  avoid  their 
intercourse. 

I  never  knew  any  one  but  Fontenelle  who  had  all  the 
charms  of  intellect  in  society  without  the  inconveniences  of 
the  lei  esprit.  This  was  not  because  he  was  devoid  of  self- 
love,  but  because  his  usage  of  the  world  and  of  philosophy  had 
made  that  self-love  gentler  and  more  sociable.  Here  are  a 
few  traits  of  M.  de  Fontenelle  which  will  make  known  his 
character  and  the  turn  of  his  mind.  He  was  in  favour  dur- 
ing the  Regency,  and  carried  upon  him  when  he  went  out  a 
pocket-book  full  of  bank-notes.  Some  one  told  him  that  he 
risked  much  at  night,  there  were  thieves  about,  and  he  ought 
to  take  precautions.  "  What  precautions  ? "  he  asked.  "  Poc- 
ket-pistols," was  the  reply.  "  Pooh ! "  he  said  "  they  would 
steal  those." 

Towards  the  end  of  his  life  he  went  to  see  a  woman  who, 
like  himself,  was  nearly  a  hundred  years  old.  "  Death  has 
forgotten  us,  monsieur,"  she  said  to  him.  "  Hush ! "  he  re- 
plied, putting  his  finger  on  his  lips,  "  he  may  hear  you." 

When  I  solicited  his  vote  for  the  Academy  he  said :  "  You 
know  how  much  I  like  and  esteem  you,  but  I  have  made  a 


142  MEMOIRS   AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

vow  to  my  country  never  to  say  a  yes  or  a  no."  When  I  re- 
turned from  Venice  he  clasped  me  tightly  in  his  arms  and 
said :  "  I  love  you  much,  and  for  that  reason  I  wish  you  may 
not  live  to  be  as  old  as  I  am." 

President  de  Montesquieu  also  had  all  the  appearances  of 
modesty ;  seeing  him  so  simple  you  had  to  search  for  the 
great  man  in  him.  Voltaire,  whom  I  consider  the  finest 
mind  [le  plus  lei  esprit]  of  his  epoch,  has  the  air  of  an  author 
only  with  authors ;  in  society  he  is  a  polished  courtier,  witty 
and  well-informed.  Cre*billon  senior  also  shows  the  simplic- 
ity of  a  man  of  genius,  but  his  mind  has  nothing  but  strength 
and  no  charm.  His  son,  on  the  contrary,  adds  to  imagination 
much  fire  and  gaiety ;  it  is  a  pity  he  writes  nothing  but  tales 
and  romances.  Piron,  Duclos,  and  Marivaux  have  much 
intellect,  but  Marivaux  has  given  in  to  false  taste,  and  Piron 
has  turned  to  singularity.  Voltaire,  meeting  Piron  after  the 
first  representation  of  "Semiramis"  [Voltaire's  tragedy  in 
five  acts],  asked  him  if  he  liked  it,  saying  that  he  should  be 
much  flattered  if  it  received  the  praise  of  a  man  like  himself. 
"  Ah  ! "  said  Piron, "  you  wish  that  I  had  written  it."  Duclos, 
with  better  intellect  than  either,  did  not  always  avoid  the 
rock  of  singularity ;  his  soul,  which  is  very  honourable,  ought 
to  render  him  dearer  to  his  friends  than  even  his  mind.  It 
is  a  great  pity  that  Gresset  has  neglected  his  talents,  and 
that  despair  of  obtaining  the  first  place  has  made  him  take  to 
silence.  Bernard  [Gentil-Bernard],  who  has  always  kept  his 
works  in  his  portfolio,  writes  in  the  style  of  Ovid,  with  a  more 
correct  but  less  flowing  pen.  I  speak  here  of  those  men  of 
letters  only  who  were  most  in  society  and  whom  I  knew 
best. 

I  lived  a  little  with  d'Alembert,  but  much  with  Mairan 
and  Maupertuis.  D'Alembert  writes  well;  Mairan  has 
many  ideas,  and  wisdom  of  mind ;  Maupertuis  wanted  to  be 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE   BEBNIS.  143 

singular,  and  he  has  become  so  more  than  was  necessary; 
Buffon  is  a  man  of  merit,  who  knows  how  to  write  and  how 
to  conduct  himself.  [His  "  Natural  History  "  did  not  begin 
to  appear  till  1749.]  As  for  the  Abb£  Terrasson  [Jean 
Terrasson,  translator  of  Diodorus  Siculus],  he  was  one  of 
the  men  I  liked  best  to  meet;  he  was  naive  in  character, 
eloquent  when  an  argument  grew  warm,  and  in  the  daily 
current  of  life  the  best  and  most  original  of  men  without 
assuming  to  be  so. 

I  have  said  that  on  my  entrance  into  the  world  wit  was 
much  the  fashion;  every  circle  of  society  had  its  little 
illustrious;  the  academies  overflowed  into  city  and  Court; 
men  of  letters  ceased  to  work  in  their  studies,  they  became 
men  of  gallantry,  and  all  the  women  thought  they  had 
intellects ;  books  were  multiplied  and  soon  became  frivolous ; 
conversations  degenerated  into  dissertations.  To  wit  and 
lei  esprit  succeeded  the  sciences ;  every  woman  had  her 
geometrician,  as  she  formerly  had  her  page.  To-day  politics 
and  theories  of  government  have  banished  from  the  great 
world  wit  and  science.  Ambassadors  have  taken  the  place 
of  poets  and  men  of  science;  everything  in  turn  is  the 
fashion  in  Paris,  even  vice  and  virtue. 

That  which  has  always  most  revolted  me  in  the  society  of 
men  of  letters  is  the  spirit  of  independence  they  very  gen- 
erally affect  towards  all  spiritual  and  temporal  authority. 
Most  of  them  like  to  turn  sacred  things  into  ridicule,  as  if 
there  were  merit  in  attacking  what  is  necessary  to  and 
respected  by  other  men.  This  literary  pride  and  boldness 
does  not  exist,  however,  except  in  men  of  letters  who  have 
no  hopes  of  fortune ;  for  none  are  less  philosophical  than 
philosophers,  and  these  grumblers  at  courtiers  are  base  and 
creeping  enough  when  they  do  get  some  entrance  at  Court. 
It  must  be  understood  that  I  am  speaking  generally ;  for  I 


144  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

have  met  among  men  of  letters  pure,  noble,  modest  souls, 
submissive  to  authority. 

Before  ending  these  remarks,  I  wish  to  say  a  word  of  wit 
and  intellect  [esprit],  to  which  every  one  pretends  and  which 
each  man  defines  as  he  pleases.  I  long  thought  it  was  suffi- 
cient to  say  and  write  pretty  things  to  be  a  man  of  intellect ; 
but  since  then  I  have  reflected;  I  think  that  one  can  be 
agreeable,  amusing,  original  even,  without  being  very  wise. 
A  man  of  intellect,  as  I  now  think,  is  one  who  enlightens 
his  epoch  by  useful  works,  renders  men  happy  by  wise  laws, 
renders  them  better  by  purifying  morals,  and  by  teaching 
precepts  ennobled  by  eloquence  and  embellished  by  imagina- 
tion. All  work  which  does  not  fulfil  in  some  superior  man- 
ner a  purpose  of  physical  or  moral  utility  ought  not  to  win 
for  its  author  the  reputation  of  a  man  of  intellect.  In  a 
word,  I  do  not  separate  intellect  from  good  sense  and 
virtue. 

When  I  entered  the  great  world  I  found  it  was  thought 
ridiculous  for  a  husband  to  love  his  wife,  or  for  a  wife  to  love 
her  husband;  manners  and  morals  in  this  respect  were  so 
general  that  Pierre  de  la  Chausse*e  thought  himself  per- 
mitted to  attack  this  subject  in  a  comedy  which  had  much 
success.  Conjugal  fidelity  was  at  that  time  a  virtue  in  the 
minds  of  none  but  the  bourgeoisie.  This  depravity  of  morals 
is  not  so  much  the  fashion  at  present ;  society  may  not  be 
more  virtuous,  but  it  is  at  least  more  decent. 

I  have  often  heard  the  question  of  the  superiority  of  men 
over  women  discussed.  When  we  have  well  reflected  upon 
it  I  believe  we  shall  think  that  the  superiority  of  men  lies 
only  in  the  strength  of  their  organs  and  a  better  education. 
Madame  Dupin,  who  has  been  very  pretty,  and  has  always 
had  more  desire  to  think  than  she  has  actually  thought,  has 
worked  ten  years  to  prove  that  men  have  no  superiority, 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  145 

even  bodily,  over  women.  I  do  not  believe  that  her  work, 
if  it  ever  appears,  will  change  received  ideas.  Strength  of 
body  must  give  to  men  real  superiority,  that  of  domination. 
They  have  been  masters,  and  they  had  to  be  so ;  the  strong 
always  rule  the  feeble.  Men  have  founded  States,  because 
they  alone  could  conquer  and  defend  them.  If  to  this 
physical  advantage  is  joined  that  of  a  more  enlightened  and 
more  extended  education,  we  can  conceive  without  difficulty 
that  men,  superior  in  strength,  must  also  be  superior  in 
knowledge. 

I  know  in  women  but  one  evil  common  to  their  sex  which 
is  not  equally  the  attribute  of  men :  I  mean  self-love,  vanity 
of  their  persons.  This  love  in  women  is  the  first  of  all 
their  loves ;  and  it  is  in  proportion  to  the  art  shown  in 
nattering  that  weakness  that  men  secure  the  feelings  of 
women ;  wisdom  and  virtue  do  not  protect  women  from  this 
weakness.  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  had  the  mind  of  a  man, 
was  flattered  by  a  coarse  speech  made  by  an  attendant  on 
the  Dutch  ambassador  as  he  looked  at  her ;  the  pleasure  of 
making  an  impression  on  the  senses  of  an  unknown  man 
made  his  insolence  and  temerity  disappear  to  her  eyes.  I 
know  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  virtuous  princesses  in  the 
world,  who  rapidly  raised  to  the  highest  military  rank  a 
foreigner  whom  she  thought  was  in  love  with  her ;  flattered 
self-love  persuaded  her  soon  after  that  she  could  confide  to 
him  the  welfare  of  her  States.  We  see  that  this  frenzy  of 
vanity  is  a  distinctive  weakness  of  the  sex,  to  which  we 
must  chiefly  attribute  the  childish  character  which  scarcely 
ever  abandons  women  wholly.  We  may  even  regard  this 
weakness  as  the  root  of  all  other  weaknesses. 

Apropos  of  the  childish  spirit,  I  will  not  let  posterity 
believe  that  the  Marquise  du  CMtelet,  sung  by  Voltaire,  and 
the  commentator  of  Newton  and  Leibnitz,  was  a  grave 

TOL.   I.  —  10 


146  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

personage,  I  have  seen  her  for  hours  together  ordering  the 
trimmings  of  a  gown,  and  setting  in  motion  an  army  of 
pagoda  idols  of  which  her  room  was  full 

I  think  that  the  present  intercourse  with  women  has 
changed  the]  morals  of  Frenchmen.  Formerly  men  were 
not  admitted  among  them  until  they  were  at  least  thirty 
years  old.  Up  to  that  time  men  lived  with  men,  their  minds 
were  more  manly,  their  principles  of  conduct  more  firm. 
To-day  it  is  the  women  who  are  teaching  men  to  think ;  at 
seventeen  years  of  age,  and  sometimes  earlier,  they  are 
received  in  society ;  it  is  natural  at  that  age  to  regard  pleas- 
ing women  as  the  most  important  point  of  all ;  they  are 
early  accustomed  to  effeminacy,  to  frivolity,  and  they  enter 
public  employments  with  empty  heads,  and  their  hearts 
filled  with  false  principles. 

It  is  asked  sometimes  whether  women  are  more  capable 
of  friendship  than  men.  This  question  would  be  easy  to 
answer  if  the  friendship  of  women  for  men  were  not  always 
a  little  passionate ;  it  is  rare  that  a  woman,  however  virtuous 
she  may  be,  does  not  love  in  her  friend  the  charming  man 
whom  she  believes  she  pleases  to  the  exclusion  of  others. 
That  is  why  the  friendship  of  women  is  always  jealous ;  but 
it  must  be  allowed  that  it  is  more  tender,  more  delicate, 
more  spiritual,  more  generous,  and  often  more  faithful  than 
that  of  men.  What  examples  of  this  I  could  cite!  The 
women  friends  I  have  lost,  and  those  I  have  preserved  have 
made  the  sorrow  and  the  happiness  of  my  life. 
i  It  must  be  owned,  to  the  shame  of  our  era,  that  the  women 
whose  sole  object  is  the  pleasure  of  loving  and  being  loved 
have  less  of  the  great  vices  than  other  women.  The  am- 
bition to  govern  belongs  to  the  sex;  but  the  means  that 
women  take  to  do  so  are  not  all  legitimate ;  tender  women 
seek  to  reign  only  in  the  hearts  of  their  lovers,  but  women  of 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  147 

cold  natures  have  all  the  other  passions  very  keenly ;  pride, 
self-interest,  ambition,  revenge,  reign  within  them  in  default 
of  love;  and  these  passions  are  all  the  more  dangerous 
because  they  are  nearly  always  hidden  behind  a  veil  of 
falseness  or  a  mask  of  hypocrisy. 

In  two  words,  women  are  the  most  faithful  friends  of 
men,  and  the  most  doubtful  friends  of  their  own  sex ;  they 
are  the  charm  of  society  and  the  source  of  all  our  missteps. 

Formerly  the  term  "grand  seigneur"  was  understood  to 
mean  a  man  of  illustrious  birth  who  possessed,  with  great 
estates,  the  great  offices  of  the  crown;  or  else  one  who, 
being  master  of  his  own  region,  did  not  disdain  to  live  there ; 
having  influence  with  the  king,  but  seldom  showing  himself 
at  Court.  These  former  great  seigneurs  had  almost  as  many 
followers  as  they  had  vassals,  and  the  lesser  nobility  did 
not  blush  to  be  attached  to  them.  The  reason  is  very  simple : 
great  seigneurs  had  in  those  days  enough  influence  to  make 
the  fortunes  of  such  gentlemen.  But  times  are  changed; 
the  possessors  of  the  great  fiefs  no  longer  live  on  their 
estates,  the  seigneurs  of  to-day  have,  it  is  true,  their  titles 
and  dignities,  but  none  of  the  influence  that  properly  belongs 
to  them.  This  reflection  regulated  my  conduct  in  society ; 
I  sought  friends  among  them,  but  I  never  sought  for  pro- 
tectors, because  such  protection  seemed  to  me  little  honour- 
able, often  useless,  and  not  worth  the  price  to  be  paid  for  it. 

Honour  has  been  given  to  Cardinal  de  Eichelieu  for 
having  drawn  the  great  seigneurs  to  Court  and  taking  from 
them  a  power  and  influence  which,  it  must  be  owned,  they 
often  abused.  It  is  not  true  that  Cardinal  de  Eichelieu  was 
the  one  to  restore  to  the  king  the  "power  that  these  great 
seigneurs  had  arrogated  to  themselves;  it  was  Henri  IV. 
who  began,  and  almost  completed,  this  great  work.  It  is 
known  that  Henri  IV.,  the  best  prince  in  the  world,  found 


148  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  n. 

it  necessary  to  sacrifice  Marshal  de  Biron  to  his  authority. 
But  nothing  finer  can  be  seen  than  the  tranquillity  which 
Henri  IV.  established  and  maintained  in  his  kingdom  after 
the  League,  and  after  he  had  conquered  all  France,  bit  by 
bit,  and  sword  in  hand.  The  ministry  of  Cardinal  de  Kiche- 
lieu,  on  the  contrary,  was  perpetually  agitated  by  civil  wars 
and  conspiracies.  He  shed  much  blood,  but  not  that  of  the 
great  men  or  the  clever  men  who  resisted  him.  After 
the  death  of  Louis  XIII.,  who  scarcely  survived  his  minister, 
it  was  seen  that  the  great  seigneurs  had  not  been  brought 
by  Kichelieu  under  obedience.  It  was  Henri  IV.  who 
began  that  work,  and  Louis  XIV.  who  finished  it. 

Still,  I  do  not  know  whether  drawing  all  the  great  nobles 
to  Court  has  really  been  so  great  a  good  for  the  king  and 
for  the  kingdom.  The  revenues  of  their  estates,  which 
ought  to  circulate  in  the  provinces,  is  now  lost  in  the  gulf 
of  the  capital;  the  multiplication  of  courtiers  multiplies 
intrigues,  embarrasses  and  wearies  the  ministers,  occasions 
absurd  claims,  and  adds  to  the  expenditure  of  the  royal 
treasury,  —  not  to  speak  of  exemptions  of  all  kinds,  ranks, 
distinctions,  and  favours  bestowed. 

It  will  be  seen  by  what  I  have  said  how  much  the  great 
seigneurs  of  to-day  differ  from  those  of  former  times.  With 
less  influence  and  wealth  than  in  the  days  of  Louis  XIII. 
and  Henri  IV,  they  have  also  less  dignity  and  less  appear- 
ance than  they  had  under  Louis  XIV. ;  their  expenditures 
are  underhand ;  they  love  money,  and  do  not  blush  to  ask 
for  it,  and  sometimes  to  take  it;  the  employment  they 
generally  make  of  it  cannot  serve  as  an  excuse  for  the 
disorder  of  their  affairs.  They  have  vanity,  but  no  real 
dignity.  Nothing  is  so  rare  as  to  find  characters  at  Court 
in  the  present  day ;  no  one  rises  above  his  fellows ;  they  all 
appear  to  be  of  one  height.  People  have  never  been  able 


1735-1744]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  149 

to  rely  on  friendship  at  Court,  but  they  could  always  rely 
on  hatred;  to-day  friends  are  as  fickle  and  faithless  as 
formerly,  but  enemies  are  no  longer  irreconcilable ;  relations 
change  from  day  to  day.  It  is  very  easy  for  the  king  to  be 
master  of  such  a  Court;  the  trouble  of  it  falls  upon  the 
ministers ;  they  are  obliged  to  become  courtiers  themselves, 
in  order  to  decipher  intrigues  and  not  allow  the  game  to  be 
taken  out  of  their  hands  by  these  sudden  transformations 
of  partners. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  the  great  seigneurs  are  less 
ignorant  to-day  than  they  were  in  the  good  old  times.  It  is 
not  rare  in  these  days  to  find  good  writers  among  persons  of 
rank ;  but  it  must  also  be  said  that  formerly  better  generals 
and  abler  ministers  were  found  among  those  old  seigneurs, 
many  of  whom  scarcely  knew  how  to  read  and  write ;  it  is 
not  books  that  make  great  men,  it  is  public  affairs,  loftiness 
of  soul,  and  Honour. 


150  MEMOIBS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  in. 


III. 


1745-1751.  — The  year  1745.  —  The  campaign  of  Fontenoy.  —  A  few 
important  events.  —  The  year  1748. — The  state  of  affairs  from  the 
peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  to  1751.  — The  ministers  in  office  till  1751.— 
My  situation  in  1751.  —  A  conversation  with  M.  de  Puysieux. 

THIS  year  is  the  period  to  which  must  be  referred  the  ori- 
gin and  source  of  all  the  greatest  events  of  my  life  and  the 
brilliant  fortune  that  I  have  made ;  if  it  were  permissible  to 
believe  that  one  has  a  star,  I  was  certainly  in  a  position  then 
to  believe  I  had  one.  My  youth  was  slipping  away ;  I  had 
neither  an  establishment  nor  revenues ;  the  door  of  benefices 
was  closed  to  me ;  the  career  of  Letters,  which  I  had  entered 
more  as  an  amateur  than  as  a  writer,  could  never  become  a 
resource  to  me ;  it  had  won  me  celebrity,  and  that  was  all  I 
could  expect  of  it.  In  spite  of  my  economy  and  the  entire 
sacrifice  I  had  made  of  all  the  natural  fancies  of  my  age,  I 
owed  twelve  hundred  francs.  That  sum  was  not  considerable 
in  itself,  but  of  course  it  increased  yearly.  This  prospect 
alarmed  me ;  I  saw  with  a  sort  of  horror  that  I  might  die 
without  paying  my  debts  ;  my  soul,  on  which  the  principles 
of  honour  were  stamped  from  childhood,  suffered  martyrdom. 
No  one  is  more  sensitive  than  I ;  master  of  my  outward  self, 
I  have  never  been  master  of  the  impression  that  the  emo- 
tions of  my  soul  make  upon  my  bodily  machinery ;  anxiety 
consumed  me ;  it  caused  a  terrible  upsetting  of  my  health ; 
bile  mingled  with  my  blood,  and  I  had  a  long  and  distressing 
illness;  remedies  were  useless,  because  the  cause  of  the 
trouble  was  unknown  to  the  doctors. 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  151 

One  day,  during  my  convalescence,  as  I  entered  my  room 
I  saw  a  box  on  my  bureau,  carefully  tied  up  and  addressed 
to  myself.  I  opened  it  and  found  a  note,  in  which,  were  these 
words :  "  Your  situation  is  known ;  you  wish  to  pay  your 
debts ;  you  will  find  in  this  box  twelve  hundred  francs ;  the 
sender  will  not  be  made  known  to  you  until  you  are  in  a 
position  to  return  them."  I  attributed  this  noble  act  to  a 
hundred  persons  of  my  acquaintance  who  had  never  dreamed 
of  it.  I  did  not  learn  until  two  years  later  that  I  owed  the 
homage  of  my  gratitude  to  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  of 
the  Court,  whom  I  scarcely  knew,  and  who  had  refused  me 
permission  to  visit  her.  It  was,  in  fact,  by  mere  chance  that, 
relating  my  history  one  day  to  the  Princesse  de  Kohan-Cour- 
cillon,  I  was  illuminated,  as  it  were,  by  a  flash  of  light. 
"  Ah ! "  I  cried,  "  ah !  it  was  you,  madame."  She  denied  it ; 
but  I  made  her  feel  that  it  was  not  becoming  in  a  gentleman 
to  be  so  long  ignorant  of  the  one  to  whom  he  owed  an  obliga- 
tion. I  have  lost  that  friend,  whose  soul  was  as  noble  as  her 
face,  which  the  women  picked  to  pieces,  though  it  had  no 
other  defect  than  that  of  girlishness  and  too  great  sensibility. 
A  part  of  my  family,  and  I  myself  owe  to  her  memory  an 
eternal  recollection  and  a  changeless  gratitude. 

As  soon  as  my  affairs  were  in  order  I  recovered  my  health, 
and  as  if  the  combinations  of  misfortune  were  exhausted  in 
regard  to  me,  there  happened  during  this  same  winter  an 
event  which  opened  to  me  the  gates  of  fortune. 

The  Duchesse  de  Chateauroux  was  dead.  The  king,  as  we 
know,  returned  to  her  after  the  Fribourg  campaign.  She  had 
exacted  the  ruin  of  her  enemies,  and  also  that  the  Count  de 
Maurepas,  whom  she  regarded  as  the  worst  of  them,  should 
himself  announce  to  her  that  the  king  recalled  her.  She  did 
not  long  enjoy  her  triumph ;  that  very  day  she  was  seized 
with  fever,  and  her  illness  proved  mortal.  People  did  not 


152  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CMAI*.  in. 

fail  to  say  that  she  was  poisoned.  It  may  have  been  so,  but 
I  do  not  believe  it. 

The  king  was  for  a  time  in  convulsions  of  the  sharpest 
grief ;  but  the  affliction  caused  by  love  is  violent  rather  than 
lasting ;  friendship  alone  is  never  consoled.  The  king  was 
young,  covered  with  glory,  governing  the  kingdom  himself, 
the  handsomest  of  men,  as  he  was  the  greatest  of  kings  ;  we 
can  easily  see  how  the  conquest  of  such  a  monarch  would 
excite  emulation  among  women.  Beauty,  grace,  youth,  or 
intelligence  seemed  to  each  a  claim  to  aspire  and  to  succeed ; 
the  crowd  of  female  pretenders  was  immense.  Nothing 
could  be  more  amusing  than  to  see  all  those  young  heads, 
each  with  a  project  for  governing  the  State  —  for  princes 
need  not  delude  themselves,  their  sceptre  is  more  loved  than 
their  person.  I  could  not  fail  to  be  the  friend  of  whatever 
mistress  the  king  might  choose ;  for  I  knew  intimately  all 
those  who  had  pretensions. 

There  was  a  ball  at  Versailles  in  the  winter  of  1745,  at 
which  all  the  beauties  of  the  Court  and  city  assembled.  It 
was  a  Judgment  of  Paris;  but  whichever  one  was  to  get 
the  apple  hoped  also  for  the  helm  of  State  affairs.  The  king, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  ball,  ogled  much  a  young  lady  of  my 
acquaintance  who  had  more  brilliancy  than  beauty ;  the  posi- 
tion of  her  parents,  who  were  in  finance,  did  not  disgust  the 
king,  who  was  weary  of  the  intrigues  and  the  ambition  of  the 
Court  women ;  he  hoped  that  a  bourgeoise  would  think  of 
nothing  but  loving  and  being  loved.  He  gave  this  young 
girl  rendezvous  at  a  ball  which  was  to  take  place  a  few 
days  later  at  the  Hotel-de-Ville.  Her  parents,  alarmed  but 
dazzled,  consulted  me  as  to  what  they  should  do ;  I  strength- 
ened them  in  honour  and  virtue ;  the  young  girl  was  not  at 
the  ball.  Very  great  seigneurs  went  to  her  house  to  persuade 
the  mother ;  it  was  all  in  vain ;  the  affair  came  to  nought,  and 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  153 

what  does  much  honour  to  the  girl  in  question  is  that  she 
knew  I  was  the  cause  of  this  failure,  and  bore  me  no  grudge 
for  it. 

That  same  night  the  first  outline  of  the  affair  of  Mme. 
d'fitioles,  now  Marquise  de  Pompadour,  was  sketched.  This 
intimacy  increased  day  by  day,  but  was  not  known  to  the 
public  until  some  time  later.  Mme.  d'fitioles  had  all  the 
graces,  all  the  freshness,  all  the  gaiety  of  youth ;  she  danced, 
sang,  and  played  comedy  marvellously  well;  no  agreeable 
talent  was  lacking  in  her.  She  loved  Letters  and  the  arts. 
She  had  a  lofty  soul,  sensible  and  generous.  It  is  true  that 
to  make  a  good  use  of  the  influence  she  was  about  to  have, 
she  was  deficient  in  knowledge  of  men  and  affairs.  The 
public  were  astonished  at  the  preference  the  king  gave  her ; 
they  were  ignorant  that,  after  her  marriage,  he  saw  her 
frequently  when  hunting  in  the  forest  of  Se*nart;  that  his 
equerries  were  constantly  at  her  house,  and  that  Mme.  de 
Mailly  had  dreaded  Mme.  d'Etioles  more  than  any  other 
woman. 

The  Comtesse  d'Estrades  was  a  connection  by  marriage 
of  Mme.  d'Etioles ;  I  saw  the  latter  very  often  at  the  house 
of  the  Comtesse,  who  was  one  of  my  friends.  Mme.  d'fitioles' 
mother,  Mme.  Poisson,  had  not  the  tone  of  society,  but 
she  had  intelligence,  ambition,  and  courage.  She  and  her 
daughter  had  often  pressed  me  to  go  to  their  house ;  I  had 
constantly  resisted  because  the  company  they  received  was 
not  what  suited  me.  This  refusal  ought  'to  have  injured  me 
with  them.  One  day  I  received  a  note  from  the  Comtesse 
d'Estrades  asking  me  to  go  to  her;  I  went.  She  told  me 
that  Mme.  d'fitioles  was  the  king's  mistress ;  that,  in  spite 
of  my  refusals,  she  desired  to  find  a  friend  in  me,  and  that 
the  king  approved  of  it.  I  was  asked  to  supper  at  Mme. 
d'Etioles'  one  week  later  to  settle  the  agreement.  I  ex- 


154  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [PHAP.  m. 

plained  to  Mme.  d'Estrades  my  great  repugnance  to  lend 
myself  to  such  an  arrangement ;  though,  in  actual  truth, 
I  had  no  part  in  it;  but  it  seemed  to  me  little  in  keeping 
with  my  profession.  She  insisted,  however,  and  I  asked  for 
time  to  reflect.  I  consulted  the  most  honourable  persons; 
they  all  agreed  that  having  in  no  way  contributed  to  the 
king's  passion,  I  ought  not  to  refuse  my  friendship  to  an 
old  acquaintance,  nor  the  good  which  might  result  from  my 
advice.  I  determined  then  to  accept;  they  promised  me 
and  I  promised  them  an  eternal  friendship.  It  will  be  seen 
that  I  kept  my  word.  The  king  was  to  go  to  the  war  in 
Flanders,  and  Mme.  d'Etioles  was  to  pass  the  summer  in 
the  country.  It  was  agreed,  and  approved  by  the  master, 
that  I  should  see  her  often. 

The  king  was  not  held  back  from  this  campaign  by  the 
pleasure  of  his  new  engagement.  He  went  very  early  to 
the  army,  then  besieging  Tournai ;  the  dauphin  accompanied 
him.  Two  bullets  might  have  deprived  France  of  her  master 
and  her  hopes.  I  shall  not  relate  the  events  of  this  cam- 
paign. The  Mare'chal  de  Saxe,  after  the  eventful  day  of 
Fontenoy,  said  to  the  king:  "Sire,  you  now  see  on  what 
the  loss  or  gain  of  a  battle  hangs."  As  long  as  the  Mare'chal 
de  Saxe  lived,  he  enjoyed  the  esteem  of  the  army,  and  that 
of  all  Europe ;  but  a  portion  of  the  Court  had  always  re- 
fused him  its  suffrage :  he  could  do  without  it.  At  his 
death,  all  voices  united  in  regretting  him;  but  nothing  is 
so  great  a  eulogy  of  this  general  as  the  conduct  of  those  who 
commanded  our  armies  after  him,  —  excepting  Mare'chal  de 
Broglie,  who  deserves  to  be  distinguished. 

Mare'chal  de  Saxe  had  the  genius  of  a  commander-in-chief ; 
he  had,  for  war,  only  those  defects  which  are  inseparable 
from  humanity.  Before  he  commanded  armies,  he  talked 
about  himself  and  rather  exaggerated  his  merits ;  his 


Liotard 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  155 

modesty  came  to  him  with  his  glory.  I  remember  that 
some  of  his  friends  and  I  did  all  we  could  to  make  him 
talk  of  his  campaigns  in  Flanders  during  a  rather  long 
supper ;  we  could  not  get  a  word  from  him  except  this : 
"I  made  many  blunders."  It  is  a  pity  that  so  great  a 
warrior  gave  himself  up  to  love,  debauchery,  and  bad  com- 
pany; it  may  truly  be  said  that  opera-girls  deprived  France 
of  a  support  most  necessary  to  her.  Mare'chal  de  Saxe  liked 
bad  company  less  from  taste  than  from  haughtiness;  son 
of  a  king  [Augustus  the  Strong  of  Poland],  he  preferred 
to  live  with  sycophants,  avoiding  his  own  equals.  His 
"  Keveries  "  will  seem  a  work  of  little  importance  to  common 
minds,  but  those  who  have  military  genius  will  find  many 
sublime  ideas  in  it.  The  greatest  gift  that  God  can  make 
to  a  monarchy  is  that  of  an  able  general ;  the  mistakes  of 
ministers  are  reparable,  those  of  a  general  usually  are  not ; 
the  safety  and  glory  of  a  nation  are  absolutely  in  his 
hands. 

I  was  often  at  Etioles  during  the  summer  of  1745.  With 
the  exception  of  the  Due  de  Gontaut,  who  stayed  there 
several  days,  I  was  the  only  man  of  society  with  whom 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  could  have  any  intercourse.  I  went 
weekly  to  Paris ;  and  there  I  did  justice,  without  exaggera- 
tion, to  her  sentiments  and  intentions.  I  advised  her  to 
protect  men  of  letters ;  it  was  they  who  had  given  the  name 
of  Great  to  Louis  XIV.  I  had  no  advice  to  give  her  as  to 
seeking  and  cherishing  honest  men ;  I  found  that  principle 
established  in  her  soul.  I  did  not  then  discover  in  that 
soul  any  other  defect  than  a  self-love  too  easy  to  flatter  or 
wound,  and  a  too  general  distrust  as  readily  excited  as 
calmed.  In  spite  of  this  discovery,  I  resolved  to  always 
tell  her  the  truth  without  any  precaution;  I  have  often 
risked  displeasing  her  by  this  frankness  and  firmness ;  but 


156  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  in. 

a  true  friend  can  play  no  other  part.  I  ought  to  say  to 
her  praise  that  for  twelve  years  she  preferred  my  truths, 
sometimes  harsh,  to  the  flatteries  of  others.  When  she  was 
presented  at  Court  it  was  agreed  between  us  that  I  should 
see  her  weekly  for  an  hour  or  two  in  private.  This  was 
done  for  a  month ;  but  I  soon  saw  that  I  excited  the  envy 
and  uneasiness  of  the  whole  Court.  I  found  the  position 
too  delicate;  and  I  arranged  with  her  that  I  should  only 
see  her  with  others,  but  that  I  should  write  to  her  on  all 
that  concerned  the  highest  glory  of  the  king,  and  the  happi- 
ness of  honest  people.  When  I  examine  my  own  conscience, 
I  find  not  the  smallest  reproach  to  make  to  myself  during 
all  the  time  this  intimacy  lasted ;  the  temptations  of  favour, 
which  are  so  dangerous,  never  made  me  deviate  from  prin- 
ciples of  justice  and  probity. 

The  Court  and  the  public  were  astonished  to  see  the  wife 
of  a  farmer-general,  still  living,  presented  to  the  queen 
under  the  title  of  the  Marquise  de  Pompadour.  After 
a  time  the  Court  and  public  accustomed  themselves  to  see 
the  same  person  lady  of  the  palace  of  the  queen,  and  seated 
in  her  Majesty's  presence.  In  France  the  king  is  master  of 
not  only  the  property  and  lives  of  his  subjects,  but  of  their 
minds  also.  What  power!  and  how  easy  it  would  be  to 
turn  it  to  great  advantage! 

In  spite  of  my  great  favour,  all  I  obtained  at  the  beginning 
of  1746  was  a  lodging  in  the  Louvre  and  a  pension  of  fifteen 
hundred  francs  on  the  privy  purse.  This  meagre  condition 
continued  till  1751,  and  the  reason  was  this :  I  have  never 
been  grasping ;  I  sweated  blood  when  I  had  to  tell  of  my 
affairs.  Mme.  de  Pompadour  had  obtained  many  favours 
from  the  king,  to  which  the  ministers  always  put  obstacles. 
I  avoided  embittering  the  favourite  against  them;  so  the 
obstacles  prevailed:  in  a  word,  the  Court  would  not  lend 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  BE  BlSRNlS.  157 

itself  to  my  elevation,  and  I  did  not  seek  then  to  make 
a  distinguished  fortune. 

My  situation  at  Court  was  very  singular  up  to  1751 ;  I 
was  placed  between  favour  and  fortune,  able  to  dispose  of 
the  one  but  never  attaining  the  other ;  I  influenced  consider- 
able events,  I  had  part  in  many  benefits  obtained  for  others, 
but  for  myself  I  could  not  procure  even  a  moderate  com- 
petence. I  had  limited  my  wants  to  eighteen  thousand 
francs  a  year.  I  could  have  got  that,  and  more  too,  if  I  had 
been  willing  to  mix  myself  in  what  are  called  "affairs." 
But  I  have  always  regarded  them  with  contempt  and  horror, 
in  spite  of  the  force  of  repeated  examples.  To  receive 
money  in  return  for  obtaining  an  office  for  some  one  is,  in 
the  first  place,  selling  our  services ;  in  the  next,  it  is  deceiv- 
ing the  sovereign  by  presenting  to  him  a  person  who  may 
often  have  no  other  merit  than  that  of  having  bought  my 
influence.  It  was  not  that  I  did  not  know  the  instability 
of  all  things  human ;  I  knew  very  well  that  Cardinal  Ma- 
zarin  and  many  others  had  maintained  themselves  only 
by  thus  putting  under  cover  considerable  sums ;  but  honour 
silenced  all  such  reflections.  I  kept  to  the  same  way 
of  thinking,  and  still  more  scrupulously  when  I  became 
minister. 

The  king,  whom  I  saw  every  day  at  Mme.  de  Pompadour's, 
never  brought  himself  to  speak  to  me  for  three  years,  so 
great  is  the  shyness  of  this  prince  towards  persons  to  whom 
he  is  not  used ;  especially  if  those  persons  have  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  clever  men.  As  soon  as  the  king  had  con- 
quered himself  as  far  as  to  say  a  word  to  me  he  had  no 
longer  any  embarrassment;  he  even  gave  me  a  great  mark 
of  favour  by  taking  me  with  him  to  the  little  entertainments 
in  the  cabinets,  where,  at  first,  only  a  very  few  courtiers 
were  admitted.  The  King,  by  placing  me  in  his  own  box, 


158  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  in. 

wished  to  show  that  he  was  informed  of  my  birth.  These 
theatricals  soon  became  public,  with  more  constraint  to  the 
king  and  much  less  decency. 

The  favour  which  I  enjoyed,  being  useful  only  to  others, 
made  me  fewer  enemies  than  if  it  had  been  profitable  to 
myself,  but  it  excited  the  attention  of  the  Court  and  the  ill- 
will  of  the  ministers.  My  friendship  for  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour fixed  me  to  a  plan  that  was  very  dangerous.  In  order 
not  to  give  her  umbrage,  I  resolved  to  be  attached  only  to 
the  king,  who  was  my  master,  and  to  depend  for  my  ad- 
vancement only  on  her,  who  was  my  friend.  I  followed 
this  system  steadily,  and  I  never  regretted  it,  because  it  was 
honourable.  But  my  attachment  to  the  favourite  never  had 
an  air  of  baseness  or  slavery ;  I  always  told  her  the  truth, 
and  I  never  sacrificed  a  friend  to  her ;  though  I  had  several 
who  might  have  displeased  her.  It  was  difficult  for  conduct 
so  unusual  to  avoid  annoyances  and  storms.  If  I  had  been 
ambitious  I  might  have  been  more  adroit;  as  it  was,  I 
wished  to  be  only  a  friend  and  philosopher. 

Two  remarkable  events  followed  the  peace  of  Aix-la- 
Chapelle:  one  was  the  arrest  in  broad  daylight  of  Prince 
Edward  Stuart,  who  was  bound  and  pinioned  like  a  common 
criminal.  No  event  ever  so  vexed  me  for  the  king's  sake. 
The  Pretender  was  inexcusable  for  wanting  to  lay  down  the 
law  to  France ;  he  deserved  to  be  arrested ;  but  it  ought  to 
have  been  done  at  night,  with  the  consideration  due  to  his 
rank,  and,  above  all,  to  his  misfortunes.  Those  who  advised 
the  king  on  this  occasion  forgot  to  remind  him  that  Prince 
Edward  was  a  grandson  of  Henri  IV.  and  that  the  French 
throne  has  ever  been  the  support  and  shelter  of  unfortunate 
princes. 

Another  event  which  made  much  noise  at  Court  was  the 
disgrace  of  M.  de  Maurepas.  The  sudden  death  of  Mme. 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  •        159 

de  Chateauroux  had  saved  him  from  exile ;  but  the  risk  he 
had  run  then  did  not  prevent  him  from  being  on  equally 
bad  terms  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour.  His  system  was,  not 
to  depend  in  any  way  on  the  favourites ;  a  laudable  system 
in  itself,  provided  it  did  not  fail  in  respect  to  the  king  by 
attacking  what  he  loved.  The  Court  thought  it  saw  a 
coolness  on  the  part  of  the  king  for  Mme.  de  Pompadour, 
and  a  secret  cabal  went  to  work  to  bring  back  Mme.  de 
Mailly,  who  was  playing  the  part  of  the  repentant  Magdalen 
in  Paris.  They  hoped  that  the  king,  who  was  used  to  her, 
would  also  get  used  to  her  piety.  To  strengthen  this  pious 
intrigue  Paris  was  inundated  with  satirical  songs  against 
Mme.  de  Pompadour.  The  conspirators  hoped  to  humiliate 
the  king's  self-love  in  that  way,  for  he  himself  was  inso- 
lently attacked  in  these  lampoons.  They  grossly  deceived 
themselves.  The  king  was  more  indignant  at  the  contempt 
cast  upon  his  choice  than  upon  the  personal  insults  to  him- 
self. M.  de  Maurepas,  having  charge  of  the  department  of 
Paris  and  the  Court,  was  accused  of  not  having  duly  sought 
for  the  authors  and  disseminators  of  these  infamies. 

He  was  exiled,  and  the  king's  Council  lost  an  enlightened 
minister  and  one  better  informed  than  many  others  on  the 
laws  and  regulations  of  the  kingdom. 

The  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  (October  18, 1748)  put  an 
end  to  the  conquests  of  Mare*chal  de  Saxe  and  to  the  glory 
of  our  arms ;  it  left  hi  existence  our  differences  with  England, 
and  it  winked  at  the  establishment  of  the  Spanish  princes  in 
Italy.  Hence  this  treaty  gave  occasion  for  two  almost  cer- 
tain wars  ;  one  with  England,  the  other  in  Italy  on  the  death 
of  King  Ferdinand  of  Spain.  Our  alliance  with  the  Court 
of  Vienna  saved  us  from  that  second  war,  which  would 
have  become  general.  Few  persons  in  France  perceived  this 
good  effect  of  the  Treaty  of  Versailles,  but,  with  Frenchmen, 


160  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  in. 

the  mind  does  not  readily  seize  the  connection  of  political 
ideas. 

The  Comte  de  Saint-Severin  negotiated  the  Peace  of  Aix- 
la-Chapelle.  As  a  reward  he  was  made  minister  of  State 
He  was,  as  Voltaire  somewhere  calls  him, "  the  most  inefficient 
inefficiency  "  among  the  ministers. 

As  I  found  that  favour  gave  me  nothing  but  consideration 
and  a  pleasant  life,  but  did  not  procure  me  suitable  establish- 
ment, I  judged  it  best  to  leave  my  Chapter  of  Brioude  and 
enter  that  of  Lyon.  It  was  an  honourable  pis-aller,  which 
I  kept  to  fall  back  upon  in  case  fortune  should  continue  to 
be  against  me ;  I  was  connecting  myself  with  an  illustrious 
body  in  the  Church  of  France  and  securing  a  retreat  for  my 
old  age.  I  busied  myself  therefore  in  collecting  the  title- 
deeds  necessary  to  prove  sixteen  quarterings,  which  the 
Chapter  of  Lyon  requires  before  appointing  to  a  vacancy. 
This  precaution  is  very  wise ;  it  saves  the  Chapter  from  being 
sued  by  those  whose  proofs  may  be  rejected,  and  who  would 
not  fail  to  appeal  to  Parliament  to  get  them  admitted. 

My  proofs  were  presented  to  the  Chapter  on  All-Saints' 
day  of  the  year  1748,  and  received  by  the  Chapter  on  Saint- 
John's  day  of  the  following  year.  The  proofs  of  my  geneal- 
ogy went  back,  by  an  almost  unexampled  distinction,  to  the 
year  1116;  which  will  some  day  be  a  fine  title  for  my 
family.  The  king  has  granted  a  decoration  to  the  Comtes 
de  Lyon ;  it  consists  of  an  enamelled  cross  on  a  red  ribbon 
edged  with  blue;  the  two  colours  recalling  the  military 
nobility  and  the  nobles,  distinguished  by  the  colour  of  the 
Orders  of  Saint-Louis  and  the  Saint-Esprit.  When  Cardinal 
de  Tencin  saw  me  wearing  the  Lyon  cross,  he  declared  that 
I  should  soon  be  an  ambassador ;  he  was  not  far  wrong. 

As  soon  as  I  was  a  member  of  the  Lyon  Chapter  I  re- 
nounced frequenting  theatres  both  at  Court  and  in  Paris ; 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  161 

this  sacrifice  cost  me  much.  I  made  another  which  seemed 
to  me  less  painful :  I  abandoned  the  frivolous  style  of  poetry. 
History,  politics,  and  morals  became  my  only  occupations ;  I 
wished  to  accustom  the  public  by  degrees  to  regard  me  as 
a  man  of  serious  mind  fit  for  public  affairs.  I  have  all  my 
life  had  the  talent  of  transitions,  which  to  be  good  should 
be  gradual. 

I  have  made  myself  a  law  in  speaking  of  the  affairs  of  State 
never  to  allow  the  secrets  of  government,  whether  in  regard 
to  politics  or  to  finances,  to  transpire ;  in  spite  of  the  wisest 
precautions,  all  that  is  written  may  be  made  public  or  pass 
into  questionable  hands.  Consequently,  I  shall  speak  only 
of  affairs  in  general,  without  disclosing  the  secret  bond  that 
connects  them,  and  without  giving  a  precise  idea  of  the  state 
of  our  resources  and  our  debts.  No  minister  was  ever  more 
enabled  than  I  to  give  an  exact  picture  of  our  situation,  but 
I  shall  not  forget  the  oath  which  I  took  to  the  king.  These 
Memoirs  will  be  less  interesting ;  but  it  must  be  remembered 
that  I  write  them  only  for  my  own  amusement  and  the  in- 
formation of  my  nephews.1 

The  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  had  procured  for  the  king  no 
other  advantage  than  that  of  showing  his  moderation  to  Eu- 
rope, and  of  relieving  him  from  the  prejudice,  established  in 
the  days  of  Louis  XIV.,  of  an  agressive  ambition,  which  France 
can  well  do  without  if  she  is  properly  governed,  and  of  which 
she  cannot  fulfil  the  object  when  her  government  is  feeble 
or  vicious. 

The  king,  having  kept  none  of  his  conquests,  and  hav- 
ing failed  in  the  object  which  Mare*chal  de  Belleisle  was  ex- 

1  Bernis*  descendants  regarded  his  wishes  so  faithfully  in  this  respect 
that  it  was  nearly  120  years  before  they  were  published  or  generally 
known.  They  end  in  the  year  1758  and  were  first  published,  as  already 
stated,  in  1878.  — TR. 

VOL.   I.  — 11 


162  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHA*.  in. 

pected  to  carry  out,  namely,  the  weakening  of  the  House 
of  Austria  and  the  transfer  of  the  Empire  to  another  family, 
had,  of  course,  to  expect  a  new  war  as  soon  as  the  belliger- 
ents recovered  breath.  But  France  needed  a  long  peace ;  it 
was  necessary,  therefore,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  wisdom 
and  foresight  of  the  Council  should  carefully  endeavour  to 
end  our  differences  with  England  and  ward  off  all  that  might 
increase  them ;  on  the  other,  that,  as  we  were  not  certain 
of  ending  the  settlement  of  our  boundaries,  we  should  pro- 
vide far  in  advance  for  our  colonies,  make  their  defensive 
easier  and  more  formidable,  rectify  and  simplify  their  ad- 
ministration, and,  above  all,  confide  it  only  to  pure  hands 
incapable  of  rapine.  The  whole  attention  of  the  government, 
in  the  uncertainty  in  which  we  were  as  to  the  duration  of 
peace,  ought  to  have  been  given  principally  to  the  mainten- 
ance, the  increase,  and  the  good  administration  of  the  navy. 

As  it  is  incontestable  that  a  marine  war  with  a  great  power 
leads,  in  six  months  or  a  year  later,  to  a  continental  war,  it 
was  essential,  1st,  to  seek,  after  the  deaths  of  the  Mare'chal 
de  Saxe  and  Mare'chal  Lb'wendahl,  for  two  generals  capable 
of  commanding  our  armies ;  because,  in  spite  of  French  van- 
ity, if  the  nation  does  not  furnish  great  warriors  the  safety 
and  glory  of  the  State  require  that  they  be  sought  elsewhere ; 
2d,  it  was  equally  necessary  to  form  a  good  militia,  and 
make  sure  of  the  good  government  of  the  soldier  by  the  good 
conduct  and  capacity  of  the  officer ;  3d,  it  was  necessary  to 
replenish  our  arsenals,  supply  our  fortresses,  and  repair  their 
fortifications  ;  4th  (and  most  important  point  of  all),  it  was 
essential  to  bring  order  into  our  finances  and  prepare,  in 
advance,  secure  resources  in  case  of  war,  to  enable  us  to 
sustain  it  the  necessary  time  and  not  be  forced  to  a  disad- 
vantageous peace  by  the  imperious  law  of  a  last  crown  in 
the  treasury ;  5th,  it  was  plainly  wisdom,  in  view  of  foreign 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  163 

war,  to  appease  the  intestinal  wars  of  religion,  to  prevent  the 
two  bodies  of  the  clergy  and  magistracy  from  clashing,  and 
that  parliament  should  be  stopped  from  making  a  species  of 
League,  injurious  to  the  authority  of  the  king  and  to  the 
public  opinion  of  his  power  and  his  administration ;  6th,  and 
finally,  it  was  the  part  of  prudence  to  better  consolidate  the 
political  system  of  the  king,  and  not  allow  it  to  depend  so  ab- 
solutely on  the  fidelity  or  infidelity  of  the  King  of  Prussia. 

In  saying  what  ought  to  have  been  done  after  the  Peace  of 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  one  is  stating  precisely  what  was  not  done. 
The  negotiation  with  England  was  badly  conducted ;  it  was 
supposed  that  that  power  neither  would  nor  could  go  to  war. 
We  were  in  a  position  to  make  her  some  little  sacrifices  in 
order  to  establish  a  solid  peace  of  which  France  and  its  com- 
merce had  need ;  instead  of  that  we  committed  little  acts  of 
hostility  against  the  English  in  America ;  we  put  up  forts 
where  they  could  only  create  jealousy ;  we  sent  much  money 
for  the  proper  defence  of  our  colonies,  which  was  ill-employed 
and  wasted ;  the  navy  was  badly  administered ;  we  searched 
for  no  generals;  we  enervated  the  militia  by  multiplying 
grades  ;  our  fortresses  and  arsenals  were  neglected ;  instead 
of  paying  our  debts,  we  increased  them  in  a  time  of  peace  ; 
the  burden  on  the  people  has  not  been  relieved  according  to 
their  needs  ;  we  have  allowed  religious  quarrels  to  be  revived 
without  an  effort  to  smother  at  its  birth  the  fermentation  of 
the  clergy  and  the  parliaments ;  while  distrusting  the  King 
of  Prussia  we  rested  tranquilly  on  the  faith  of  his  alliance 
—  hi  a  word,  we  have  conducted  ourselves  ill,  and  we 
ought  to  impute  to  our  own  faults  all  the  misfortunes  of  the 
present  war  and  the  embarrassments  in  which  we  find  our- 
selves. After  giving  this  picture,  it  is  essential  that  I  should 
make  known  the  ministers  who  at  that  time  composed  the 
king's  Council. 


164  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  o*  [CHAP.  m. 

The  chancellor  was  M.  de  Lamoignon,  whose  name  is 
illustrious  in  the  magistracy,  but  who  could  not  replace  M. 
d'Aguesseau  either  for  ideas  or  knowledge.  He  is  a  very 
honest  man,  but  the  post  of  chief  of  law  and  justice  demands 
superior  talents.  The  king  having  asked  the  chancellor  one 
day  from  what  point  he  had  seen  the  fireworks  given  at  Ver- 
sailles on  the  birth  of  the  Due  de  Bourgogne,  the  Due  d'Ayen 
forestalled  the  chancellor's  answer  by  saying,  "From  his 
dining-room,  sire,"  —  M.  de  Lamoignon  having  gone  into  his 
hay-loft  to  see  the  sight.  When  it  is  permissible  to  make  such 
jokes  as  that  on  the  head  of  law  and  justice,  what  authority 
can  he  have  over  the  magistracy  ? 

The  Marquis  de  Puysieux  had  the  department  of  Foreign 
Affairs  after  the  dismissal  of  the  Marquis  d'Argenson, 
surnamed  the  Stupid  [le  BUe]  to  distinguish  him  from  his 
brother,  Comte  d'Argenson.  M.  de  Puysieux  has  a  wise  and 
just  mind ;  he  speaks  nobly  and  with  dignity ;  his  principles 
and  his  acts  are  honest;  he  knows  his  master  well,  and 
knows  how  to  conduct  himself  at  Court  and  in  public ;  but 
one  feels  the  difference  there  is  between  an  adroit  and  vir- 
tuous courtier  and  an  able  minister, — between  an  upright 
mind  and  a  broad  one. 

The  Comte  d'Argenson  was  charged  with  the  war  depart- 
ment. On  entering  office  he  had  created,  so  to  speak,  the 
king's  armies.  I  have  known  few  men  who  had  more  ideas 
hi  their  minds  than  he  ;  but  by  dint  of  multiplying  the  supe- 
rior grades  in  the  army  he  extinguished  emulation,  and 
gave  birth,  in  subalterns,  to  misplaced  ambition.  His 
quarrels  with  M.  de  Machault  were  very  pernicious  to  the 
king's  affairs,  and  his  rupture  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour 
finally  deprived  the  State  of  an  enlightened  minister. 

M.  de  Machault,  successively  controller-general,  minister 
of  the  marine,  and  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  had  at  that  time  only 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  165 

the  finance  department.  He  was  beginning  to  show  the 
despotism  of  his  mind,  and  he  hid  beneath  a  cold  exterior 
and  a  grave  countenance  the  little  depth  of  his  knowledge, 
which  was  veiled  by  the  prestige  of  a  rather  penetrating 
mind  and  a  laconic  language  that  was  clear  and  precise.  In 
trying  to  destroy  the  privileges  of  the  clergy  he  unmasked 
too  soon  his  real  design  of  suppressing  all  privileges ;  from 
that  time  he  aimed  for  the  post  of  Keeper  of  the  Seals.  The 
chief  president  [of  parliament],  M.  Maupeou,  also  had  views 
for  that  place.  The  Court  had  flattered  his  hopes,  and  he 
restrained  parliament  just  so  long  as  he  believed  those  hopes 
well-founded.  M.  de  Machault,  after  having  displeased 
Mme.  de  Pompadour,  found  the  secret,  not  of  pleasing  her, 
but  of  governing  her  in  State  affairs. 

M.  Kouill4  had  succeeded  the  Comte  de  Maurepas  as  min- 
ister of  the  marine,  but  he  did  not  replace  him  in  either 
knowledge  or  capacity;  without  intending  to  be  governed 
by  his  subordinates,  he  was  so,  despotically,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  where  one  is  not  well-informed  one  must  rely  on 
others. 

Besides  these  departments  the  king  had  as  ministers  of  the 
State :  Cardinal  de  Tencin,  who  soon  retired  to  his  diocese, 
and  did  well ;  the  Marshal  de  Noailles,  a  man  of  much  in- 
telligence, writing  well  and  having  much  information,  but 
more  of  a  courtier  than  a  statesman ;  the  Comte  de  Saint- 
Severin,  whose  greatest  merit  was  to  have  persuaded  M.  de 
Puysieux  that  he  was  a  great  man,  descended  in  direct  line 
from  the  kings  of  Aragon;  the  bishop  of  Mirepoix,  who 
ruled  the  affairs  of  the  Church  with  the  harshness  and  des- 
potism of  a  monk ;  he  had  placed  in  the  see  of  Paris  M.  de 
Beaumont,  cherished  in  Vienne,  adored  at  Bayonne,  fitted 
to  occupy  those  two  places,  but  not  to  fill  a  post  of  such  im- 
portance as  the  archbishopric  of  Paris, 


166  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  in. 

Though  the  Prince  de  Conti  was  not  in  the  Council,  he 
worked  with  the  king  on  matters  of  importance,  more  foreign 
than  internal.1  He  is  a  prince  of  much  intelligence  and 
knowledge,  but,  unless  the  king  admits  into  the  Council  a 
prince  of  the  blood,  it  would  be  wiser  to  keep  him  aloof 
from  great  affairs.  He  has  quarrelled  with  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour. All  these  quarrels  of  the  king's  mistress  with  the 
ministers  have  been  the  source,  or  the  occasion,  of  great 
troubles  and  misfortunes  to  the  kingdom. 

I  was  too  well-informed  as  to  public  affairs  not  to  fear 
to  embark  upon  them ;  on  the  one  hand,  I  should  have  been 
glad  to  be  useful  to  the  State,  and  to  make  myself  an 
honourable  reputation ;  on  the  other,  I  foresaw  the  confusion 
into  which  the  evils  of  the  coming  wars  would  almost  in- 
fallibly cast  the  country.  Moreover,  I  knew  my  own  nature ; 
I  foresaw  that  I  should  be  too  sensitive  to  the  evils  of  the 
State  as  soon  as  I  was  charged  with  some  administration ; 
that,  jealous  of  my  honour  and  reputation  as  well  as  the 
glory  of  my  master,  I  should  make  every  effort  to  re-establish 
order,  regardless  of  the  enemies  so  firm  a  course  would  give 
me;  from  that  I  foresaw  dismissal  and  exile  if  circum- 
stances called  me  to  the  ministry.  All  these  reflections 
attached  me  more  and  more  to  the  free  and  philosophical 
life  that  I  was  leading ;  but  I  was  thirty-six  years  old,  I  had 
no  career,  and  a  numerous  family  depended  on  my  making  a 
fortune  to  supply  the  deficiencies  of  theirs.  This  last  con- 
sideration was  stronger  than  my  repugnances. 

A  step  which  I  took  at  this  time  ended  my  irresolution. 
There  had  been  some  question  for  me  of  a  place  as  coun- 

1  Louis-Franpois  de  Bourbon,  great-nephew  of  the  Great  Conde;  his 
grandmother  was  Anne  Martinozzi,  Mazarin's  niece;  he  managed 
the  secret  correspondence  of  Louis  XV.  with  French  agents  in  the 
north  of  Europe,  one  object  of  which  was  to  put  him  on  the  throne  of 
Poland.  —  TB. 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  167 

cillor  of  State  on  Church  Affairs,  which  I  should  have 
obtained  if  the  dauphin  had  not  asked  for  it  for  the  Abb£ 
de  Marbeuf,  one  of  his  tutors.  I  wrote  to  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour to  ask  for  the  next  place  of  the  kind  that  fell  vacant. 
She  answered  that  the  king  would  willingly  give  it  to  me 
if  I  served  him  in  his  negotiations;  but  that  his  Majesty 
was  surprised  that  I  had  made  no  effort  to  enter  that  career, 
for  which  both  he  and  his  ministers  thought  me  fitted.  The 
Marquis  de  Paulmy  [son  of  the  Marquis  d'Argenson]  hav- 
ing been  associated  with  his  uncle  in  the  ministry  of  war, 
the  embassy  to  Switzerland  was  vacant.  I  applied  for  it, 
but  it  was  given  to  M.  de  Chavigny  in  reward  for  his  long 
services ;  that  of  Venice  was  promised  me,  with  an  order  to 
keep  the  matter  secret. 

Meantime  M.  de  Puysieux  resigned  the  ministry  of 
Foreign  Affairs.  He  would  have  liked  the  king  to  choose 
M.  de  Saint-Severin  to  succeed  him,  but  his  Majesty, 
influenced  by  M.  de  Machault  and  the  Mare*chal  de  JSToailles, 
preferred  M.  de  Saint-Contest,  who,  to  speak  frankly,  brought 
no  other  qualifications  for  so  great  an  office  than  that  of 
being  the  son  of  a  minister  plenipotentiary  at  the  Congress 
of  Eastadt,  and  of  having  read  the  newspapers  assiduously 
for  thirty  years.  This  new  minister  was  not  one  of  my 
friends  :  first,  because  his  mind  and  mine  were  not  of  the  same 
stuff;  second,  because  his  creator,  M.  de  Machault,  had  never 
liked  me.  Thus  it  came  about  that  I  was  treated  rather 
shabbily  in  meeting  the  immense  costs  of  my  outfit ;  so  that 
I  began  my  diplomatic  career  by  being  forced  to  borrow 
eighty  thousand  francs,  with  the  annoyance  of  passing  in 
public  for  a  well-treated  favourite. 

As  soon  as  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  enter  upon  a  public 
career  I  renounced  all  pleasures,  all  amusements,  and  all 
tastes  which  did  not  conform  to  it ;  I  informed  myself  f unda- 


168  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  in. 

mentally  on  whatever  might  help  me  to  some  superiority ; 
and  I  accustomed  myself  henceforth  to  adopt  the  tone  and 
manners  of  foreigners ;  through  the  flexibility  of  my  nature, 
I  soon  had  the  tone  of  the  foreign  ministers  then  in  Paris. 

I  formed  a  plan  at  this  time  for  twenty  years,  which  I 
desired  to  devote  to  the  service  of  the  king  in  foreign  Courts  ; 
all  places  at  our  own  Court  were  excluded  from  this  plan ; 
and  my  final  prospect  was  —  after  serving  the  State,  being 
useful  to  my  family,  and  acquiring  reputation  for  myself  — 
to  spend  the  remainder  of  my  days  far  from  the  great  world 
and  from  public  affairs,  in  the  enjoyment  of  my  life  and  of 
friends.  Circumstances  which  it  was  impossible  to  foresee 
subsequently  upset  a  plan  so  wise,  and  so  in  harmony  with 
my  inclinations. 

Up  to  the  moment  when  I  was  appointed  to  the  embassy 
of  Venice,  I  had  passed  in  the  world  for  an  honest,  agree- 
able man,  having  many  talents,  but  too  lazy  to  employ  them 
usefully,  and  too  devoid  of  ambition  ever  to  make  my  way. 
I  warned  my  intimate  friends  that  as  soon  as  I  was  an 
ambassador  I  should  have  a  totally  different  reputation  in 
society;  I  should  be  supposed  to  have  vast  ambition,  and 
the  art  to  have  known  how  to  conceal  it  for  seventeen  years 
under  a  mask  of  careless  indifference.  I  was  not  mistaken. 
My  embassy  was  announced  the  last  of  October,  1751;  I 
thanked  the  king  the  next  day,  and  as  I  left  his  cabinet  a 
courtier  said  to  me  with  a  sly  air,  "  Your  Excellency,  I 
offer  my  congratulations  to  your  Eminence  ;  "  and  a  few  steps 
farther  on,  another  courtier  said  with  a  rather  sour  smile, 
"  Monsieur  1'abbe*,  the  file  grates  [la  lime  sourde]"  A  week 
later  the  news  ran  through  Paris  that  my  embassy  to  Venice 
would  not  last  long,  as  I  should  soon  be  recalled  to  the  post 
of  tutor  to  the  Due  de  Bourgogne ;  I  was  supposed  to  have 
that  aim,  and  they  doubtless  imagined  that  by  unmasking  it 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  169 

they  could  make  me  miss  it.  From  that  moment  I  lost  the 
flattering  illusion  of  having  many  friends ;  I  discovered  that, 
on  the  contrary,  there  were  many  who  envied  me. 

I  ought  to  remark  here  that  during  ten  years  of  favour  all 
I  had  obtained  was  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year,  to  which  I 
limited  my  ambition.  Therefore  it  was  proved  to  me  that 
I  could  not  make  a  medium  fortune,  for  as  soon  as  I  took 
the  resolution  to  rise  to  a  great  one,  embassies  were  flung 
at  my  head.  Did  that  mean  that  Providence  destined  me 
for  great  things  ?  The  end  alone  can  clear  up  this  doubt. 

I  think  I  ought  to  relate  here  a  conversation  which  I  had 
at  Fontainebleau  with  M.  de  Puysieux,  who,  although  he 
had  resigned  the  ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs,  still  preserved 
a  portion  of  the  king's  confidence  in  regard  to  them.  This 
conversation  will  show  better  than  anything  else  what  the 
spirit  was  that  guided  my  conduct  at  Court. 

It  was  rather  extraordinary  that  I  had  been  appointed  to 
an  embassy  without  ever  having  spoken  to  the  minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  or  ever  paying  him  a  visit.  I  did  not  wish 
this  singularity  to  make  a  bad  impression  on  M.  de  Puy- 
sieux' mind,  because  I  respected  him.  Accordingly,  after 
the  first  compliments,  I  told  him  that  I  had  come  to  make 
my  general  confession,  and  I  was  too  jealous  of  his  esteem 
to  let  him  think  I  had  neglected  to  fulfil  a  duty  I  owed  to 
him,  or  that  I  was  impertinent,  or  a  man  of  the  other  class. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  replied,  "  that  you  have  had  the  air  of 
saying, '  Messieurs,  I  wish  to  be  an  ambassador,  and  I  shall 
be  one  without  your  meddling  in  it.' "  This  answer  made  me 
laugh,  and  I  at  once  began  my  justification  and  told  him  my 
history  ever  since  my  arrival  in  Paris.  I  made  him  take 
notice  of  the  honesty  and  courage  of  my  conduct ;  I  justified 
the  frivolous  works  of  my  youth  by  showing  that  I  held 
them  at  their  just  value ;  but  I  made  him  agree  that  without 


170  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  in. 

them  I  sliould  never  have  acquired  the  reputation  for  intel- 
lect which  put  me  in  the  way  of  being  chosen  for  great 
places.  I  made  him  see  the  close  connection  there  had 
always  been  between  my  ideas  and  my  actual  plan  of  con- 
duct, and  that  in  leading  the  life  of  a  man  of  society  I  had 
reflected  much  and  had  studied  the  heart  and  the  passions 
of  men. 

I  made  him  remark  how  modestly  I  had  used  my  favour ; 
how  my  attachments  had  been  free  from  baseness  and 
flattery ;  and  to  what  a  point  I  had  been  disinterested.  As 
all  I  said  was  sustained  by  facts  well-known  to  M.  de 
Puysieux,  I  saw  that  my  argument  made  an  impression, 
and  brought  the  minister  suddenly  to  the  delicate  point 
which  touched  himself.  I  then  employed  to  win  him  the 
only  art  I  know  —  that  of  truth.  I  said  to  him :  — 

"  You  will  not  accuse  me  of  being  ignorant  that,  wishing 
to  be  an  ambassador,  my  first  step  ought  to  have  been  to  ask 
for  your  consent;  neither  will  you  suspect  me  of  having 
neglected  that  act  of  propriety  and  obligation  from  misplaced 
arrogance.  I  shall  therefore  tell  you  the  secret  of  it:  I 
wanted  to  be  an  ambassador,  and  I  never  should  have  been 
one  had  I  set  foot  in  your  house.  You  can  readily  see  that 
as  soon  as  I  appeared  there  all  the  Court  would  have  said, 
'It  is  now  clear  enough;  he  is  aiming  for  the  Foreign 
Affairs.'  From  that  instant  all  who  had  the  same  aim, 
the  friends  of  the  Court  and  of  some  of  the  ministers,  would 
have  persuaded  Mme.  de  Pompadour  that  it  was  breaking 
my  neck  to  let  me  be  appointed  an  ambassador  before  my 
fortune  was  made ;  that  I  should  have  to  begin  by  running 
in  debt;  that  the  Bishop  of  Mirepoix  would  still  refuse 
me  an  abbey,  or  if  he  gave  it,  its  revenues  would  go  to  the 
payment  of  my  debts ;  therefore  that  the  true  way  to  help 
me  was  to  conquer  the  obstinacy  of  the  Bishop  of  Mirepoix, 


1745-1751]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  171 

and  induce  the  king  to  give  me  some  other  favour  which 
would  put  me  in  the  way  to  serve  him  and  not  ruin  myself. 
This  apparently  friendly  language  would  have  made  an  im- 
pression on  the  mind  of  my  friend ;  and  if  it  did  not  change 
her  intentions  it  would  certainly  have  retarded  the  result." 
(M.  de  Puysieux  agreed  to  that.)  "  Well,  then,"  I  said,  «  by 
taking  the  course  of  not  seeing  you,  and  being  scarcely 
known  to  you,  I  calculated  that  I  should  infallibly  become 
an  ambassador." 

M.  de  Puysieux  began  to  laugh;  he  embraced  me  and 
said :  "  I  now  think  that  you  are  worthy  to  be  one.  I  will 
return  you  confidence  for  confidence ;  I  shall  not  conceal  that 
I  did  all  that  depended  on  me  to  prevent  the  king  from 
choosing  you  for  his  ambassador.  I  could  not  tell  him  you 
were  a  scoundrel,  because  every  one  avers  you  are  an  honest 
man ;  or  that  you  are  not  a  gentleman,  because  it  is  proved 
that  you  come  of  an  ancient  race  ;  nor  could  I  say  that  you 
.were  a  fool,  because  everybody  says  you  have  intellect;  but 
I  made  him  fear  that  your  intellect  would  turn  to  the  side 
of  imagination  and  away  from  that  of  good  sense.  He 
wanted  to  send  you  to  Poland ;  I  insisted  on  the  danger  of 
intrusting  you  with  so  delicate  a  mission,  and  I  consented 
finally,  but  with  difficulty,  to  the  Venetian  embassy,  because 
if  you  committed  follies  there  they  would  not  be  important." 

This  frankness  on  the  part  of  M.  de  Puysieux  touched  me 
to  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  I  asked  him  for  his  friendship 
and  promised  him  mine.  He  soon  gave  me,  as  I  shall  tell 
hereafter,  flattering  marks  of  his  esteem ;  and  I  have  been 
fortunate  enough  in  my  turn  to  prove  to  him  mine. 

It  was  in  the  same  frank  and  open  manner  that  I  gradually 
won,  if  not  the  friendship,  at  least  the  esteem  of  all  the  min- 
isters of  the  king  before  I  started  for  Venice. 


172  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  IT. 


PART  SECOND. 
IV. 

1762-1755.  — That  which  preceded  my  Departure  for  Venice.  — My  Debut 
there.  —  The  foreign  Ministers  resident  in  Venice.  —  Affairs  which  I 
negotiated  during  iny  Embassy.  —  Some  interesting  Particulars. — 
Journey  to  Parma  early  in  1755.  —  Return  to  Paris  in  June,  1755. — 
State  of  the  Court  and  Country  in  1755. 

I  HAD  changed  my  condition,  I  now  changed  my  life ;  my 
mind,  which,  in  my  days  of  idleness,  had  busied  itself  solely 
in  works  of  pure  charm,  now  applied  itself  solely  to  public 
affairs.  My  conversion  in  this  respect  has  been  so  sincere 
that  I  have  lost  the  taste  and  talent  that  I  once  had  for  poetry. 
It  was  only  by  accident,  to  conjure  away  my  griefs  or  my 
weariness,  that  I  had  given  such  career  to  my  imagination ; 
serious  things  were  of  a  nature  that  best  suited  the  character 
of  my  own  mind ;  therefore,  on  entering  upon  the  duties  of 
public  life  I  was  not,  as  they  say,  all  abroad.  The  study 
that  I  had  made  of  the  government  of  Venice,  of  the  manners 
and  spirit  of  that  republic,  put  into  my  mind  such  clear  ideas 
on  the  subject  that  I  did  not  have  many  corrections  to  make 
later.  They  sent  me  to  Venice  as  into  a  cul  de  sac  of  little 
interest,  but  I  resolved  to  make  my  despatches  more  interest- 
ing than  those  of  the  king's  ministers  in  the  chief  Courts  of 
Europe,  and  to  find  the  art  and  the  means  of  soon  acquiring 
the  reputation  of  a  meritorious  ambassador.  It  will  be  seen 
that  I  did  not  disappoint  my  own  hopes. 

I  left  the  Court  in  the  agitation  of  a  most  complicated 
intrigue.  Clear-sighted  persons  thought  they  saw  a  diminu- 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNlS.  173 

tion  in  the  favour  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour ;  they  suspected 
that  the  king  had  a  fancy  for  Mme.  de  Choiseul,  a  little 
serpent  whom  the  marquise  had  warmed  in  her  bosom.  I 
could  not  count  securely  on  any  of  the  king's  ministers.  M. 
de  Puysieux  had  known  me  so  recently,  and  M.  d'Argenson, 
towards  whom,  in  spite  of  his  quarrel  with  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour, I  had  always  shown  the  most  honourable  and  courageous 
conduct,  had  very  weak  regard  for  me,  which  was  not  likely 
to  resist  long  the  influence  of  his  mistress,  Mme.  d'Estrades, 
who  had  ceased  to  like  me  when  I  could  not  be  induced  to 
abandon,  like  herself,  Mme.  de  Pompadour.  If  I  had  been 
less  honourable  I  might  have  had  the  support  of  the  Prince 
de  Conti,  who  wished  to  attach  me  to  him  and  to  have  me 
appointed  to  the  embassy  to  Poland  in  order  to  execute  there 
a  scheme  known  only  to  himself,  the  king,  and  M.  d'Argenson, 
which  was  revealed  to  me.  But  the  Prince  de  Conti  was 
the  declared  enemy  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  and  that  was 
enough  to  deprive  me  of  his  useful  protection,  which  might, 
according  to  circumstances,  become  necessary  to  me. 

I  may  add  to  this  the  aversion  M.  de  Saint-Contest 
showed  to  me.  He  tried  to  treat  me  superciliously,  but  I 
did  not  allow  it,  and,  although  I  was  dependent  on  him, 
I  spoke  to  him  firmly,  knowing  well  that  inferior  ministers 
are  more  rancorous  than  superior  ones.  Moreover,  I  left 
beside  Mme.  de  Pompadour  M.  de  Machault,  in  whom  at 
that  time  she  had  the  utmost  confidence,  and  who  could 
not  endure  me.  The  king  had  promised  me  the  first  vacant 
place  of  Councillor  of  State  for  Church  affairs,  but  the 
promise  might  be  forgotten.  The  Bishop  of  Mirepoix,  des- 
potic distributor  of  benefices,  was  against  me ;  I  had  bor- 
rowed eighty  thousand  francs,  and  I  had  no  property  to 
cover  that  sum.  The  present  was  disquieting,  the  future 
alarming. 


174  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  iv. 

Under  these  circumstances  my  friends  wanted  me  to 
remain  at  Court,  enjoy  the  salary  of  my  embassy,  and  wait 
to  see  if  Mme.  de  Pompadour  succumbed  or  triumphed. 
The  advice  seemed  wise,  but  my  opinion  was  different.  I 
was  resolved  to  make  my  way  by  my  own  work  and  the 
development  of  my  talents.  I  saw  in  this  course  another 
advantage,  that  of  allay  ing  the  jealousies  I  was  beginning  to 
excite  at  Court.  No  one  would  fear  me  in  Venice;  the 
worst  that  could  happen  to  me  would  be  to  be  forgotten; 
therefore  I  urged  my  departure  with  as  much  eagerness  as 
other  ambassadors  show  in  delaying  theirs.  Mine  was  fixed 
for  August,  1752. 

The  quarrel  of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  with  the  parlia- 
ment was  beginning  to  grow  heated ;  I  foresaw  the  results 
with  a  precision  that  surprises  me  now  that  I  look  back 
upon  it.  I  wrote  a  memorial  containing  the  principles  of 
conduct  which  the  king  ought  to  maintain  under  the  cir- 
cumstances ;  in  it  I  foretold  the  disasters  which  would 
infallibly  arrive  if  these  principles  were  abandoned.  Shall 
I  say  it?  I  foretold  in  1752  that  spirit  of  fanaticism 
which  had  produced  so  many  dangerous  attempts  during  the 
reigns  of  Henri  III.  and  Henri  IV. ;  in  1757  my  prediction 
proved  but  too  true.  I  communicated  this  paper  to  M.  de 
Puysieux,  who  was  struck  by  it.  He  took  a  copy,  and 
sent  it  to  the  king  without  a  word  to  me,  but  he  cut  out 
the  passage  relating  to  horrors  already  produced  and  about 
to  be  produced  again  by  fanaticism.  He  accompanied  the 
memorial  with  a  letter  in  which  he  sung  my  praises  and 
assured  the  king  that  I  should  be  one  of  his  best  minis- 
ters ;  that  my  memorial  contained  the  true  principles ;  that 
the  king  would  do  well  to  keep  it  always  in  his  portfolio 
and  under  his  eye ;  and  finally  that  it  was  without  my 
knowledge  that  it  was  sent,  and  he  asked  the  same  secrecy 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  175 

from  the  king.  His  Majesty  kept  it  faithfully,  and  never 
said  a  word  of  it  to  me. 

I  took  leave  of  his  Majesty  in  the  month  of  August,  and 
went  to  Lyon  to  the  house  of  Cardinal  de  Tencin,  where  I 
met  the  Marshal  de  Belleisle,  with  whom  I  made  fuller 
acquaintance.  Cardinal  de  Tencin,  who  had  taken  me  in  great 
affection  since  seeing  me  on  the  road  to  fortune,  offered  me 
two  hundred  thousand  francs  when  I  left  him  for  my  em- 
bassy, using  these  remarkable  words :  "  In  the  career  on 
which  you  are  entering,  remember  that  talent  does  not  suf- 
fice to  do  everything."  On  my  return  from  my  embassy  he 
wished  to  make  me  his  coadjutor  in  the  archbishopric  of 
Lyon.  I  did  not  yield  to  any  of  his  offers,  but  I  am  not 
sorry  to  record  the  recollection  of  them.  It  is  to  be  remarked 
that  this  cardinal,  who  had  been  the  scourge  of  the  Jansen- 
ists  when  Abb£  de  Tencin  and  Archbishop  of  Embrun,  ceased 
to  persecute  them  towards  the  end  of  his  life. 

I  may  say  here  that  if  I  had  been  willing  to  accept  all  the 
offers  made  to  me  at  this  time  I  could  have  carried  with  me 
to  Venice  a  million  in  ready  money.  And  what  is  very  sin- 
gular is  that  when  I  was  minister  and  secretary  of  State,  en- 
joying the  favour  of  my  master,  no  one  ever  offered  me  money. 
Was  this  because  men  expect  more  of  a  man  who  is  begin- 
ning to  make  his  fortune  than  of  a  man  who  has  made  it  ? 
The  first  can  only  rise,  the  second  can  only  fall. 

I  had  been  announced  in  Venice  as  an  agreeable  man  and 
a  younger  son  without  resources.  People  expected  gallantry 
and  a  very  ordinary  style  of  living.  I  balked  this  public 
expectation  on  both  points ;  I  made  very  honourable  outlays, 
and  I  kept  my  house  without  abusing  any  of  the  privileges 
of  an  ambassador.  I  used  that  of  free  customs  with  great 
restraint ;  this  is  the  only  honest  way  to  retain  a  right  to 
them.  My  predecessors  had  brought  in  contraband  supplies 


176  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  IV. 

with  more  or  less  ostentation;  I  abolished  that  unworthy 
system.  An  ambassador  is  the  representative  of  his  master 
and  his  nation ;  what  care  he  ought  therefore  to  take  of  their 
fame  and  his  own  honour.  I  wished  my  household  to  be 
regulated  like  that  of  a  Chartreux  establishment ;  I  required 
that  silence  and  order  should  reign  there  ;  that  my  retinue 
should  be  polite  and  respectful  towards  all  citizens,  and  that 
libertinism  should  be  banished.  Two  or  three  timely  exam- 
ples made  me  master  of  establishing  these  rules  and  forcing 
their  observance.  This  wholly  new  system  of  life  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Venetian  government  and  caused  a 
little  jealousy  in  the  ambassadors  from  other  Courts. 

M.  de  Chavigny,  who  preceded  me,  had  lived  only  eighteen 
months  in  Venice.  He  made  himself  a  reputation  there  by 
his  good  fortune  in  becoming,  in  a  way,  the  mediator  of  the 
disputes  between  the  Kepublic  and  the  Court  of  Vienna  on 
the  subject  of  the  patriarchate  of  Aguila.  It  was  not  easy  for 
a  new  minister  to  make  such  a  predecessor  forgotten ;  all  the 
more  because  from  his  present  embassy  in  Switzerland  he 
continued,  under  the  rose,  to  meddle  with  the  matters  with 
which  I  was  charged.  Without  injuring  the  union  and 
friendship  which  existed  between  us,  and  by  taking  the  tone 
and  air  of  a  disciple  rather  than  a  rival,  I  cut  short  these 
little  intrigues  and  soon  made  myself  an  independent  name 
and  consideration. 

When  I  arrived  in  Venice  I  found  the  people,  and  a  large 
part  of  the  government,  Austrian  or  English ;  the  French  were 
held  in  such  dislike  that  they  ran  the  risk  of  being  insulted 
if  they  appeared  in  public  places.  I  set  myself  to  change  that 
national  feeling ;  and  I  succeeded  by  means  that  are  simple 
but  infallible  whenever  persons  have  the  intelligence  to  adopt 
them,  and  the  steadiness  to  employ  them  without  interrup- 
tion. I  studied  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  place ;  I 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BEENIS.  177 

conformed  to  them  without  having  an  air  of  being  annoyed 
by  them ;  and  I  kept  the  spirit  of  my  own  nation  only  in 
those  graces  which  please,  without  any  tincture  of  that 
arrogance  that  makes  us  hated  by  foreigners. 

The  Venetians  were  astonished  after  a  time  to  find  me 
insensible  to  the  charms  of  women,  hi  a  country  where  that 
weakness  is  not  thought  a  vice.  From  this  time  the  Senate, 
which  is  informed  and  takes  note  of  all,  considered  me  as  a 
man  master  of  himself,  on  whom  the  force  of  example  had  no 
power.  It  wondered,  nevertheless,  how  a  cadet  without  for- 
tune could  be  so  magnificent  and  disinterested.  A  crowd  of 
illustrious  foreigners  of  all  nations,  whom  the  pompous  cere- 
monies of  Holy  Week  drew  to  Eome,  passed  through  Venice ; 
my  house  was  open  to  them,  and  there  they  were  treated 
with  distinction,  magnificence,  and  ease.  No  other  foreign 
minister  would  do  this ;  they  preferred  money  to  the  reputa- 
tion it  gives.  As  for  me,  I  regarded  these  travelling  foreigners 
as  my  trumpeters,  who  would  sound  my  praises  throughout 
Europe ;  I  knew  that  the  flattering  noise  would  echo  to  Ver- 
sailles, and  when  my  friends  scolded  me  for  the  great  expen- 
ses I  incurred  I  answered :  "  I  am  putting  my  money  into  a 
sinking-fund  at  very  advantageous  interest.  You  will  see 
what  it  will  bring  me  back  in  abbeys  and  dignities.  Besides, 
I  represent  a  great  master ;  I  wish  to  re-conquer  for  France 
the  heart  and  mind  of  Italians,  who  are  eager  for  show  and 
for  all  that  has  an  air  of  magnificence.  Moreover,  it  is  my 
business  to  efface  the  shame  of  the  niggardliness  of  my 
predecessors." 

I  shall  always  advise  the  king  to  send  magnificent  ambas- 
sadors to  foreign  courts,  but,  to  avoid  expense,  I  should  not 
keep  regular  ambassadors  there,  with  fixed  residence ;  I 
should  employ  habitually  simple  ministers,  able  men  and 
well-chosen,  but  whose  character  and  position  would  need  no 

VOL.   I.  —  12 


178  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  IV. 

display.  When  I  sent  an  ambassador  extraordinary,  I  should 
surround  him  with  all  the  pomp  and  majesty  suitable  to  the 
master  he  represents.  It  must  be  owned  that  if  that  ambas- 
sador has  not  a  great  and  noble  soul  his  Court  may  give  him 
a  great  salary  uselessly.  Avarice  and  meanness  will  show 
behind  riches.  It  is  more  necessary  in  republics  than  else- 
where that  ambassadors  should  make  a  great  appearance. 

Before  my  embassy  to  Venice,  the  nobility  in  the  theatre 
and  other  places  of  meeting  never  bowed  to  the  ambassadors, 
nor  did  the  ambassadors  bow  to  them.  I  changed  that 
savage  custom ;  I  accustomed  the  nobles  and  the  ladies  to 
be  bowed  to  by  me,  and  to  return  my  bow ;  gradually  they 
became  so  accustomed  to  it  that  they  ended  by  bowing  first. 
I  alone  enjoyed  that  civility  which  the  other  foreign  min- 
isters had  tried  in  vain  to  obtain. 

The  embassy  to  Venice  is  usually  considered  as  a  post  of 
little  importance.  This  is  why  the  Courts  have  not,  for  a 
long  time,  sent  men  of  much  ability  to  fill  it.  It  is  true 
that  it  does  not  seem  very  necessary  to  do  so  in  view  of  the 
little  influence  the  Kepublic  of  Venice  now  has  in  the  affairs 
of  Europe.  And  yet  I  do  not  know  a  better  school  in  which 
to  train  ambassadors.  Nothing  is  of  indifference  in  that 
country ;  every  word,  every  action  produces  its  effect ;  thus 
an  observing  and  reflecting  minister  accustoms  himself  to 
reason  out  all  his  actions,  and  to  consider  nothing  as  of  no 
consequence.  Moreover,  in  Venice  he  treats  with  an  invisi- 
ble government,  and  always  by  writing ;  which  forces  him 
to  great  circumspection  in  order  to  send  nothing  to  the 
Senate  that  is  not  well-digested  and  maturely  reflected.  He 
must,  moreover,  if  he  hopes  to  make  the  affairs  with  which 
he  is  charged  succeed,  employ  an  industry  all  the  greater 
because  it  must  be  employed  with  prudence. 

The  Court  of  Home,  on  my  arrival  .in  Venice,  had  as 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  179 

nuncio  M.  Caraccioli,  a  man  regular  in  his  morals,  full  of 
fire  and  activity,  but  less  liked  than  feared  and  respected. 
I  allied  myself  closely  with  him,  —  keeping,  however,  the 
reserve  that  should  always  be  maintained  with  the  ministers 
of  other  Courts,  and  especially  the  Italian  Courts. 

The  Spanish  ambassador  in  Venice  was  M.  de  Montalegro, 
Duke  of  Salas,  who  had  been  for  ten  years  prime-minister  in 
Naples.  He  is  a  man  of  much  intelligence  and  talent,  who 
has  all  the  ideas  necessary  to  render  a  man  agreeable  in 
society ;  it  is  a  pity  that  so  many  fine  qualities  are  obscured 
by  defects  and  weaknesses.  My  intimacy  with  this  minister 
was  agreeable  to  him,  and  very  useful  to  me.  M.  de  1'En- 
cenada,  prime-minister  of  Spain,  had  been  his  comrade  and 
remained  his  friend,  as  far  as  two  ambitious  ministers  can 
be  friends.  These  two  men  were  in  regular  correspondence ; 
I  managed  so  well  that  before  long  the  letters  were  com- 
municated to  me ;  and  in  that  way  I  was  able  to  give  my 
Court  much  more  correct  ideas  than  M.  de  Duras,  then  the 
king's  ambassador  at  Madrid.  His  accounts  and  mine  did 
not  agree ;  the  king's  Council  had,  naturally,  more  confidence 
in  its  minister  on  the  spot  than  in  an  ambassador  in  Venice 
who  had  not  the  Court  of  Spain  before  his  eyes.  So  M.  de 
Saint-Contest  and  the  Mare*chal  de  Noailles  made  light  of 
my  tales  ;  but  in  course  of  time  they  saw  that  my  predictions 
were  correct,  for  while  M.  de  Duras  was  assuring  the  king 
that  M.  de  1'Encenada  was  secure  as  prime-minister,  I,  on 
the  contrary,  had  for  some  time  past  announced  his  fall. 
The  veil  was  torn  off,  and  they  began  to  have  faith  in  my 
statements. 

My  principal  usefulness  in  Venice  was  saving  the  money 
of  the  king.  But  I  did  give  very  good  news  about  all  the 
Courts  of  Europe,  which  I  procured  by  my  industry,  and  at 
my  own  expense.  No  minister  in  a  foreign  land  was  ever 


180  MEMOIfcS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  iv. 

better  informed  than  I,  without  showing  the  least  curiosity 
or  eagerness  for  information ;  the  spies  that  were  sent  to 
fathom  me  were  the  ones  from  whom  I  got  most  profit  and 
knowledge  of  what  it  was  important  to  know.  I  have  always 
had  a  talent  for  reading  physiognomies,  and  enlightening 
myself  by  chance  words,  of  which  I  have  often  made  the 
application  with  great  accuracy. 

My  work  in  Venice  was  thus  heavy  without  my  having  any- 
thing to  do,  or  the  appearance  of  doing  anything.  I  chose 
the  post-days  to  go  to  the  theatre,  and  to  pay  visits ;  whereas 
my  colleagues  were  mysteriously  shut-up  on  those  days. 
But  I  had  no  mistresses,  and  the  evenings  were  long.  My 
readings  and  writings  were  incessant,  though  I  gave  more 
time  to  society  than  others.  So  much  work,  joined  to  want 
of  exercise  and  the  swampy  air  one  breathes  in  Venice, 
began  to  injure  my  health ;  I  may  say  that  no  one  ever 
sacrificed  a  finer  or  better  health  to  the  service  of  his 
king. 

Nothing  could  be  more  limited  than  the  instructions  given 
to  me.  M.  de  Saint-Contest  had  few  views  and  little  in- 
dustry. He  had  dismissed  the  Abbe*  de  la  Ville  [chief 
clerk  of  the  ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs],  who  was  a  man 
of  mind  and  talent,  and  had  put  in  his  place  M.  de  la 
Chapelle,  who  thought  he  was  a  philosopher,  and  was,  in 
point  of  fact,  a  very  ordinary  man,  and  a  very  lazy  one. 
He  said  to  me  one  day  that  the  proper  style  for  despatches 
was  very  different  from  the  academic  style  to  which  I  was 
accustomed.  I  answered  that  I  knew  but  two  sorts  of  style ; 
that  of  men  of  intelligence,  and  that  of  fools ;  and  when 
I  reflected  that  it  was  to  those  two  personages  that  my 
despatches  were  addressed,  the  pen  would  sometimes  drop 
from  my  hand. 

I  sometimes  used  with  the  Venetians  an  innocent  trick, 


1752-1755]  CAKDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  181 

which  always  succeeded.  I  knew  they  opened  my  letters, 
and  when  I  wanted  to  impress  something  on  them  I  wrote 
a  despatch,  which  I  was  careful  not  to  put  in  cipher,  in 
which  I  advised  the  manner  in  which  they  should  be  treated 
in  case  they  refused  to  do  as  we  wished.  They  read  it,  and 
it  frightened  them.  But  of  course  I  could  not  often  use 
that  means. 

The  confidence  of  the  Eepublic  in  me  grew  to  be  so  great 
that  in  a  very  serious  squabble  which  it  had  with  Genoa 
it  chose  me  as  mediator ;  and  the  two  republics  accepted  the 
plan  of  agreement  which  I  laid  down.  It  was  after  this 
affair,  which  made  much  noise  in  Italy,  that  the  Senate 
charged  its  ambassador  in  France,  on  three  different  occa- 
sions, to  express  to  the  king  the  satisfaction  that  all  classes 
had  received  through  my  conduct.  M.  de  Saint-Contest  did 
not  think  it  worth  while  to  tell  this  to  his  Majesty,  and  the 
Eepublic,  being  informed  after  the  death  of  that  minister  of 
this  omission,  renewed  the  same  orders  in  a  manner  still 
more  precise  and  nattering  to  me,  so  that  the  king  was  at 
last  informed  of  my  success. 

No  ambassador  before  me  had  ever  sent  to  the  Court  such 
detailed  memoranda  on  all  the  parts  of  the  Venetian  govern- 
ment ;  I  fulfilled  my  ministry  in  that  respect  with  the  great- 
est amplitude,  and  I  will  venture  to  say  that  my  despatches 
made  the  Eepublic  of  Venice  better  known  than  all  that 
had  been  previously  written  on  that  celebrated  and  singular 
government.  I  employed,  for  the  writing  of  these  memo- 
randa, one  of  my  secretaries  at  the  embassy,  the  Abbe* 
Deshaises,  who  has  talent  and  merit,  and  in  whom  I  know 
no  other  defect  than  that  of  being  a  little  too  much  con- 
vinced of  it.  I  charged  his  comrade-secretary,  Emmanuel 
Brun,  with  the  arrangement  of  all  the  documents  and  memo- 
randa which  had  relation  to  the  affairs  about  which  I  ne- 


182  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  iv. 

gotiated  with  the  Eepublic.  He  is  a  man  less  brilliant  than 
solid,  who  has  an  upright  mind  and  an  honest  heart.  When 
I  was  dismissed  he  exposed  himself  to  the  loss  of  his 
position  in  the  ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs  to  accompany  me 
into  exile ;  I  regard  him  as  my  friend. 

It  will  be  seen,  from  this  exposition  of  affairs  which  I 
had  to  manage  in  Venice,  that  the  field  was  a  very  restricted 
one.  I  looked  about  me  for  a  way  to  extend  it.  I  knew  that 
M.  de  Saint-Contest  had  taken  to  the  king's  Council  only 
such  of  my  despatches  as  were  devoid  of  facts  and  reflec- 
tions, and  all  those  which  could  give  an  opinion  of  my  ideas 
and  my  views  were  pitilessly  suppressed,  as  well  as  all  my 
memorials  relating  to  the  government  of  Venice.  (M.  Eouille', 
who  succeeded  M.  de  Saint-Contest,  afterwards  resuscitated 
this  buried  labour  and  brought  it  before  the  Council.)  It  was 
therefore  important  for  me  to  find  subjects  of  such  interest 
that  M.  de  Saint- Contest  could  not  avoid  laying  my  despatches 
before  the  king.  This  was  difficult  to  do  in  times  of  peace 
and  from  the  midst  of  a  republic  eternally  neutral  by  system, 
education,  and  perhaps  necessity.  I  despaired  of  my  object, 
when  one  day,  looking  over  a  map  of  the  Venice  territory,  I 
was  struck  by  the  utility  this  government  might  be  to  France 
»  in  any  wars  that  we  might  have  with  the  House  of  Austria 
in  Italy.  I  saw  that  the  Eepublic  was  in  relation  to  Germany 
what  the  King  of  Sardinia  was  in  respect  to  France ;  that  is 
to  say,  that  both  are  masters  of  the  passes  and  may  be 
regarded  as  the  gates  to  Italy.  I  perceived  that  by  securing 
to  ourselves  the  Grisons  we  effectually  closed  all  entrance 
into  Italy  to  the  Germans.  This  point  of  view  suddenly 
made  the  embassy  intrusted  to  me  very  important  to  my 
eyes.  But  I  feared  that  my  predecessors  had  had  the  same 
idea,  and  that  it  might  be  used-up  by  being  handled.  I 
therefore  looked  through  all  the  despatches  of  the  ambassa- 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  183 

dors  of  the  king  in  Venice  for  the  past  fifty  years,  and  I 
found  with  as  much  surprise  as  joy  that  so  simple  an  idea 
and  easy  to  seize  was  perfectly  new.  From  that  moment  I 
saw  no  difficulty  in  making  my  correspondence  interesting, 
and  I  formed  the  bold  project  of  persuading  the  Kepublic 
of  Venice  to  put  itself,  withstanding  its  pride,  under  the 
protection  of  the  king. 

To  succeed  in  this  design  I  felt  it  was  necessary  to  win 
all  minds,  to  please  equally  the  people  and  the  nobles,  and 
become  in  a  way  a  citizen  of  Venice.  I  succeeded  in  this 
preliminary  above  all  hopes.  It  cost  me  much  in  care  and 
money.  I  helped  the  poor  nobles,  I  succoured  the  indigent 
people,  I  flattered  the  republican  pride,  I  interested  the 
naturally  good  hearts  of  the  Venetians.  In  a  word,  I 
changed  the  mind  of  that  nation,  deeply  prejudiced  against 
ours,  to  such  a  point  that  a  Senator  said  to  me  one  day  that 
the  Senate  was  so  convinced  of  my  impartiality  that  if  I  asked 
anything  of  it  contrary  to  its  interests  it  would  have  difficulty 
in  refusing  it,  and  its  confidence  in  me  would  not  be  shaken. 

When  I  had  got  all  minds  into  this  condition,  I  waited 
till  some  event  should  enable  me  to  lead  the  Senate  to  feel 
the  necessity  of  gaining  a  protector,  and  from  that  to  the 
idea  of  the  protection  of  France. 

I  told  no  one  of  my  project;  I  wanted  the  republic  to 
come  of  itself  to  think  of  what  I  desired ;  I  made  it  perpet- 
ually conscious  of  how  much  it  had  to  fear  a  project  of 
aggrandizement  from  the  House  of  Savoie,  and  in  conse- 
quence of  the  losses  made  by  that  of  Austria;  the  latter 
House  was  looking  for  compensation  for  Servia  and  for  the 
kingdoms  of  Naples,  Sicily,  and  a  part  of  Lombardy.  From 
what  State  could  she  get  it  with  less  risk  and  more  facility 
than  the  State  of  Venice,  whose  fortresses  and,  above  all, 
whose  militia,  were  scarcely  respectable. 


184  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  iv. 

These  reflections  were  like  so  many  serpents  which  I  set 
gliding  through  the  heart  of  the  Senate.  They  laid  their 
spawn,  which  a  single  event  might  hatch.  That  event  was 
not  long  in  coming. 

The  projected  marriage  of  the  third  Archduke  of  Austria 
with  the  Hereditary  Princess  of  Modena,  gave  me  a  canvas, 
which  I  filled  with  some  dexterity  and  cleverness.  I  made 
the  Venetians  aware  that  the  claims  of  the  former  Dukes  of 
Ferrara  on  the  Polesina,  the  fiefs  of  Este,  and  a  part  of  Padua 
were  about  to  be  revived,  and  that  the  son  of  the  Empress 
Maria  Theresa  would  have  all  the  forces  necessary  to  support 
these  old  claims,  and  to  make  them  an  incontestable  right. 
I  made  the  picture  so  striking  that  the  Senate  was  almost 
terrified.  They  began  to  talk  to  me  of  the  measures  they 
ought  to  take,  and  they  said  that  the  Kepublic  had  the 
utmost  confidence  in  the  friendship  of  the  king,  and  his  pro- 
tection. As  soon  as  I  had  heated  these  spirits  I  became 
myself  much  cooler.  I  even  made  myself  aloof  by  showing 
that  I  might  embarrass  my  Court ;  and  when  matters  grew 
more  advanced  and  nearer  to  maturity,  I  exacted  that  the 
Eepublic  should,  by  some  positive  act  or  writing,  authorize 
me  to  make  my  Court  a  statement  of  the  Senate's  views, 
without  which  the  king's  Council  might  suppose  that  I 
related  fables  merely  to  do  myself  credit. 

The  Eepublic  objected  strongly  to  so  delicate  a  step,  but 
I  finally  brought  the  Senate  to  it  on  the  occasion  of  the 
visit  of  the  Due  de  Penthievre  [Louis  de  Bourbon,  son  of 
the  Comte  de  Toulouse,  legitimatized  son  of  Louis  XIV.]. 
This  prince  was  travelling  incognito ;  but  the  king  desired 
that  he  should  be  received  with  the  honours  due  to  his 
rank.  It  should  be  remarked  that  no  prince  of  the  blood 
had  ever  openly  passed  through  Venice.  I  induced  the 
Senate  to  violate  its  customs  in  the  reception  of  the  Due  de 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BEENIS.  185 

Penthievre;  he  was  received  as  son  of  a  king;  and  in  the 
speech  pronounced  on  that  occasion  by  the  son  of  the  Pro- 
curator Emo,  the  Eepublic  openly  declared  its  sentiments  on 
the  protection  it  sought  from  France.  A  copy  of  this  dis- 
course was  sent  to  me,  which  I  transmitted  to  Versailles ; 
but,  to  my  great  astonishment,  the  minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs  did  not  approve  of  taking  the  Kepublic  of  Venice 
under  the  protection  of  France.  It  may  be  said  that  by  this 
indifference  he  deprived  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  of  a  great 
lustre,  and,  it  may  be,  of  a  great  utility  during  future  wars  in 
Italy.  It  will  be  seen  by  what  I  have  just  said  that  I  did  in 
Venice  something  that  was  out  of  the  common,  and  also  that 
I  little  thought  in  that  year,  1754,  that  I  should  be  in  1756 
the  negotiator  of  an  alliance  between  the  Courts  of  Versailles 
and  Vienna. 

I  have  never  ceased  to  wonder  that  Venice,  placed  between 
ten  different  States,  without  gates  or  walls,  where  soldiers  or 
guards  are  never  seen,  which  is  the  receptacle  of  all  the 
evil-doers  of  the  region,  and  where  there  is  almost  never  a 
public  execution,  should  yet  be  the  city  of  Italy  in  which 
there  is  least  murder,  and  least  robbery.  I  have  seen  on 
Shrove  Tuesday,  in  the  Piazza  San  Marco,  more  than  forty 
thousand  persons  assembled;  one  could  hear  a  pin  drop 
during  the  plays  which  were  acted  for  the  people ;  not  even 
a  handkerchief  is  lost ;  and  yet  there  are  neither  sergeants 
nor  archers  to  restrain  the  crowd.  The  reason  for  the  order 
that  reigns  in  Venice  is  the  certainty  every  one  has  that  the 
government  is  informed  of  everything,  and  that  the  State 
inquisitors  will  put  to  death  without  formalities  those  who 
disturb  public  order.  The  fear  of  secret  executions  awes 
men  more  than  public  punishment. 

I  must  here  relate  a  little  fact  which  proves  the  con- 
sideration that  the  Senate  of  Venice  showed  to  me.  A 


186  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  IT. 

portion  of  the  nobility  protected  the  Abbe*  Chiari,  a  rival, 
very  inferior,  to  the  celebrated  Goldoni,  who  is  the  Moliere 
of  the  Italians.  This  abbe*  gave  to  the  public  a  comedy 
entitled  "  The  Venetian  Lady  in  Paris."  The  play  had  a 
great  success  on  its  first  representation,  but  I  was  warned 
that  it  spoke  indecently  of  French  valour.  The  Austrian 
ambassador  (Kosemberg)  urged  me,  no  doubt  maliciously,  to 
go  and  see  the  play.  I  promised  him  to  go  the  next  day, 
—  which  I  did;  and  I  saw  throughout  the  performance  that 
all  eyes  were  turned  to  me  to  examine  the  expression  of  my 
face,  on  which  no  displeasure  appeared.  The  next  day  the 
government  sent  questioners  to  ask  what  I  thought  of  the 
comedy;  I  said  simply  that  I  thought  it  pretty,  except 
the  part  of  a  Frenchman,  for  the  first  rule  of  the  stage  was 
to  give  to  each  nation  the  character  that  belonged  to  it.  I 
said  no  more;  and  that  night  as  the  play  was  about  to 
begin  before  an  audience  more  numerous  than  before,  a 
messenger  from  the  State  inquisitors  arrived  with  an  order 
not  to  play  the  piece,  which,  in  spite  of  cabals,  has  never 
been  returned  to  the  stage.  The  next  day  an  amusing  notice 
was  posted  up  which  said :  La  Veneziana  in  Parigi  morta 
improvisamente  del  morbo  gallico. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that,  although  the  Venetian  nobles 
are  forbidden  to  hold  any  intercourse  with  ambassadors  (a 
very  wise  severity ;  if  the  Eepublic  ever  renounces  it,  she  will 
lose  her  morals,  and  soon  she  will  change  her  laws ;  the  one 
follows  the  other) ,  it  must  not  be  thought,  I  say,  that  in  spite 
of  this  rigour  foreign  ministers  do  not  have  any  sort  of  inter- 
course with  the  magistrates ;  they  speak  to  one  another  by 
third  parties  ;  they  communicate  many  things  by  signs  at  the 
Opera,  a  circumstance  which  renders  the  frequenting  of  thea- 
tres and  the  use  of  the  mask  necessary  to  the  foreign  ministers. 
Very  warm  and  constant  friendships  are  even  formed  be- 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  187 

tween  them  and  the  Venetians.  Such  has  been  the  union 
established  between  me  and  the  Procurator  Emo,  who  by 
his  wisdom,  his  ideas,  and  his  enlightenment  may  be  regarded 
as  the  first  man  in  the  Eepublic.  On  arriving  in  Venice  I 
asked  who  was  the  man  of  the  most  credit  and  influence  and 
who  was  the  woman  who  had  the  most  important  friends. 
They  named  to  me  the  Procurator  Emo  and  Madame  Barbar- 
igo.  From  that  moment  I  directed  all  my  coquetries  towards 
those  two  personages ;  they  succeeded,  for  I  have  been  able 
to  count  them  among  my  veritable  friends.  Some  days  be- 
fore my  departure  from  Venice  I  had  an  opportunity  to  speak 
to  Madame  Barbarigo ;  she  promised  me  her  friendship  in  a 
very  amusing  manner:  "Be  sure,  Monsieur  1'ambassadeur," 
she  said,  "  that  I  shall  be  ever  constant  to  you  and  never 
faithful."  I  know  that  she  kept  her  word.  I  had  spoken  to 
her  but  twice,  and  only  once  to  the  Procurator  Emo ;  but  we 
always  love  a  little  where  we  esteem  much. 

I  brought  from  Venice  a  very  rare  manuscript,  in  which 
the  genealogies  of  the  Venetians  are  drawn  at  full  length,  as 
much  in  what  is  mythical  as  in  what  is  true.  Though  this 
manuscript  destroys  a  number  of  chimeras,  it  proves  that  the 
ancient  Venetian  families  may  boast,  with  just  claims,  that 
their  nobility  goes  farther  back  than  that  of  any  other  in 
Europe ;  and  as  each  patrician  exercises  in  a  measure  the 
functions  of  sovereignty,  we  must  agree  that  those  who  are 
the  most  ancient  have  a  marked  advantage  over  the  less 
illustrious  nobles.  The  House  of  France  alone  is  out  of  this 
ruling,  for  nothing  is  comparable  to  eight  hundred  years  of 
royalty,  and  such  royalty ! 

I  had  asked  permission  to  pay  my  court  to  Madame  Infan- 
ta [Louise-Elisabeth  of  France,  daughter  of  Louis  XV.]1  on 
her  return  from  her  journey  to  France ;  it  was  granted,  and 

1  Married  to  the  Duke  of  Parma,  second  son  of  Philip  V.  of  Spain. —  TB. 


188  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  iv. 

I  went  to  Parma  early  in  the  month  of  January,  1755.  I 
there  found  awaiting  me  very  urgent  letters  from  Court  re- 
questing me  to  return  at  once  to  Versailles.  Mme.  de  Pom- 
padour, in  one  of  hers  which  had  been  sent  back  from  Turin, 
supposed  me  already  on  my  way.  This  urgency  gave  me 
food  for  thought,  because  the  motive  for  my  recall  with  so 
much  eagerness  was  not  explained.  Madame  Infanta,  to 
whom  I  showed  the  letters,  and  to  whom  the  king  wrote  reg- 
ularly every  week,  could  not  enlighten  me.  By  dint  of  reflec- 
tion, I  divined  the  real  object  of  the  journey  they  proposed 
(for  M.  Rouble*,  then  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  did  not  give 
me  a  positive  order  to  return).  I  imagined  that  the  Court 
had  at  last  opened  its  eyes  to  the  accuracy  of  the  statements 
I  had  made  about  the  Spanish  Court,  and  that  there  was 
doubtless  a  desire  to  recall  the  Due  de  Duras  and  send 
me  in  his  place. 

With  this  idea,  which  proved  in  the  end  correct,  I  decided 
to  reply  that,  unless  a  positive  order  were  sent  to  me,  I  would 
not  leave  Italy  at  a  time  when  my  presence  was  necessary 
there.  The  Sultan  had  just  died ;  the  king  had  also  just  lost 
M.  des  Alleurs,his  ambassador  at  Constantinople.  His  Maj- 
esty at  this  time  had  only  a  charg£  d'affaires  in  Vienna. 
Thus  I  was  the  only  minister  to  give  proper  news  of  the 
Porte  at  the  beginning  of  the  new  reign.  Moreover,  the 
affair  of  the  "  Decree "  had  put  a  coldness  between  the 
Court  of  Eome  and  the  Republic  of  Venice,  which  was  then 
in  a  state  of  fermentation  [a  Decree  suppressing  various 
privileges  of  the  Court  of  Rome  in  relation  to  dispensations, 
briefs,  bulls,  and  indulgences].  The  Comte  de  Stainville, 
now  Due  de  Choiseul,  a  friend  of  Pope  Benedict  XIV.,  had 
taken  this  affair  much  to  heart,  and  advised  the  pope  to 
carry  it  through  with  a  high  hand,  which  did  not  seem  to 
me  the  best  means  of  success. 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  189 

All  these  circumstances  needed  attention.  I  had,  more- 
over, come  to  a  resolution  to  enter  Orders ;  a  course  I  had 
always  resisted  taking  so  long  as  I  was  urged  to  do  so. 
My  intention  was  to  go  into  retreat  on  returning  to  Venice 
and  prepare  myself  to  enter  the  Order  of  sub-deacons. 

On  this  answer,  which  I  sent  to  M.  Kouille*,  the  king  said 
that  I  must  be  allowed  to  do  as  I  wished,  and  be  told  to 
return  whenever  I  judged  it  best  to  do  so.  I  congratulated 
myself  then  on  the  wise  decision  I  had  made  to  remain  some 
time  longer  in  Italy.  In  so  doing,  I  gave  the  Due  de  Duras 
time  to  improve  his  position,  and  I  left  the  Court  to  re- 
call him  if  it  wished,  without  my  having  any  part  in  the  mat- 
ter. The  Due  de  Duras  was  my  friend  from  our  school  days ; 
I  owed  him  consideration ;  besides  which,  it  would  have  been 
imprudent  in  me  to  offend  his  mother,  Mme.  la  mare'chale,  a 
woman  who  knows  very  well  how  to  assist  and  how  to  in- 
jure. Accordingly,  I  paid  my  court  to  Madame  Infanta  for 
three  months ;  I  won  her  esteem  and  confidence,  which  she 
gave  me  until  her  death,  no  matter  what  people  have  said 
about  it.  This  princess  had  great  qualities  and  the  defects 
of  a  child.  She  did  me,  during  my  stay  in  Parma,  many  ser- 
vices with  the  king,  the  dauphin,  and  the  royal  family ;  I 
have  been  fortunate  enough  since  then  to  render  her  others 
of  still  greater  importance. 

In  the  month  of  April  I  left  Parma  and  returned  to  Venice, 
where  I  made  a  two  weeks'  retreat ;  after  which  I  took  Orders 
as  a  sub-deacon  from  the  hands  of  the  Patriarch,  Monsignore 
Alviso  Foscari,  who  was  the  best  and  most  saintly  old  man  I 
have  ever  known.  After  the  ordination  he  said  to  me,  "  Now 
I  can  sing  the  song  of  Simeon." 

The  ministers  no  longer  urged  me  to  return  to  France ;  in 
fact,  I  saw  that  they  felt  a  little  embarrassed  to  know  what 
to  say  to  me.  But  I  was  nearly  forty  years  old,  with  no  solid 


190  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  iv. 

prospect  before  me.  I  needed  an  abbey  and  the  place  of 
councillor  of  State  for  the  Church,  which  had  long  been 
promised  to  me.  My  presence  at  Court  became  necessary  for 
the  arrangement  of  my  private  affairs;  I  therefore  put  in 
order  those  of  the  king,  and  left  Venice  the  last  of  May, 
1755,  to  go  to  Parma  and  thence  to  France.  I  carried  away 
with  me  the  esteem  of  the  Senate,  that  of  Cardinal  Eezzonico 
(now  pope),  the  love  of  the  people,  and  a  well-established 
regard  throughout  Italy,  which  still  lasts  in  spite  of  my 
dismissal  and  exile. 

In  Parma  I  obtained  not  only  the  kindness,  but  the  friend- 
ship of  Madame  Infanta,  and  in  Turin  the  King  of  Sardinia, 
the  Due  de  Savoie,  and  the  ministers  of  that  Court  over- 
whelmed me  with  civilities. 

I  was  received  by  the  king  at  Versailles  (June,  1755) 
with  kindness  and  familiarity ;  by  the  royal  family  as  the 
friend  of  the  Infanta,  for  that  is  the  title  she  did  me  the 
honour  to  give  me ;  by  M.  Eouille  and  the  other  ministers  as 
a  favourite  to  whom  they  could  not  deny  some  merit;  by 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  as  an  intimate  friend  from  whom  she 
expected  consolation  and  advice.  But,  as  I  had  foreseen,  they 
were  a  good  deal  embarrassed  at  having  five  months  earlier 
urged  my  return ;  M.  de  Duras  had  mended  matters,  and  the 
whole  Council,  which  in  January  had  unanimously  thought 
that  I  ought  to  be  sent  to  Spain,  had  changed  its  opinion. 
The  king  alone,  as  I  learned  from  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  was 
firmly  resolved  to  make  me  succeed  M.  de  Duras. 

After  viewing  the  scene,  I  decided  to  ask  to  return  to  Italy 
in  August.  Mme.  de  Pompadour  opposed  my  resolution  for 
a  long  time,  but  yielded  at  last  to  the  good  reasons  I  gave  her. 
I  could  not,  in  fact,  prolong  my  stay  at  Versailles  without 
exciting  a  jealousy  against  me  that  was  dangerous.  M. 
Kouille',  a  sufficiently  honest  man,  who  was  not  treacherous 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  191 

to  me,  and  who  even  did  me  justice,  was  too  narrow-minded 
not  to  be  jealous.  M.  de  Machault  had  put  him  in  the 
Foreign  Office  because  it  suited  him  to  have  the  navy  himself, 
but  M.  Eouill^  was  not  in  the  least  suited  to  deal  with  the 
cabinets  of  Europe.  This  minister  said  to  me,  "  I  shall  never 
cease  to  say  that  you  are  the  best  ambassador  employed,  even 
though  you  should  be  my  successor."  I  saw,  besides,  that 
M.  de  Machault,  the  Prince  de  Soubise,  and  other  particular 
friends  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour  viewed  with  an  evil  eye  the 
preference  she  gave  me  over  them  on  all  occasions.  The 
royal  family  treated  me  with  kindness  and  distinction ;  Mme. 
de  Pompadour  congratulated  me  upon  it,  but  it  was  easy  to 
foresee  that  it  might  make  her  anxious;  though,  to  tell 
the  truth,  nothing  better  could  happen  to  her  than  to  have 
her  friend  in  the  confidence  of  the  king's  family.  It  was 
for  this  purpose  that  I  reconciled  her  with  Madame 
Infanta. 

That  which  alarmed  me  most  was  to  see  France  on  the 
point  of  going  to  war  with  England,  and  consequently  with  a 
part  of  Europe,  without  being  aware  of  it  or  taking  any 
effectual  means  either  to  avoid  that  war  or  to  sustain  it.  I 
considered  with  the  same  terror  that  three  years  in  my 
embassy  had  made  me  regarded  as  the  ablest  minister  of  the 
king  and  his  greatest  resource ;  which  proved  the  paucity  of 
men ;  and  I  could  not  doubt  that  as  soon  as  they  found  them- 
selves in  difficulties  they  would  keep  me  at  Court,  and  fasten 
me  to  public  affairs.  This  was  what  I  dreaded  most.  In  a 
foreign  country  I  was  certain  of  the  success  of  my  ministry, 
because  I  had  the  entire  confidence  of  my  Court,  and  could 
always  be  sure  of  my  means.  But  it  was  not  the  same  at 
Versailles,  where  I  had  against  me  the  jealousy  of  all  the 
ministers  and  all  the  courtiers.  A  single  misunderstanding 
with  Mme.  de  Pompadour  might  ruin  me  hopelessly;  I 


192  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS   OF  [CHAP.  IT. 

knew  how  easy  it  is,  in  matters  of  influence,  to  get  em- 
broiled with  friends,  especially  female  friends. 

All  these  considerations  determined  me  to  fix  the  date 
of  my  departure  for  Venice  as  the  12th  of  August.  I  got 
the  king  to  sanction  my  determination,  and  I  obtained 
from  him  the  permission  to  make  it  public.  As  soon  as 
people  were  informed  of  it  I  saw  joy  sparkling  on  the 
faces  of  the  ministers  and  courtiers,  with  an  air  of  serenity 
which  showed  me  that  I  had  done  wisely.  But  Providence 
(for  I  cannot  otherwise  explain  what  happened  soon  after) 
decided  otherwise. 

Before  returning  to  Venice  I  wished  to  secure  my  means 
of  living.  The  abbey  of  Saint-Arnould  of  Metz  had  become 
vacant.  I  asked  for  it  and  received  it  instantly  with  all 
the  graciousness  in  the  world  on  the  part  of  the  Bishop 
of  Mirepoix ;  the  salary  of  my  embassy  was  increased ;  a 
sum  was  fixed  to  pay  for  my  public  entry  into  Venice;  I 
was  again  assured  of  the  first  vacant  place  as  councillor  of 
State  for  the  Church,  and  the  king  had  the  kindness  to 
promise  me  the  cordon  lieu  as  soon  as  I  received  my  ap- 
pointment to  the  Spanish  embassy.  If  I  had  been  more 
grasping  I  could  have  had  more,  for  at  that  time  Mme.  de 
Pompadour  loved  me  sincerely,  I  pleased  the  king  and  his 
family,  and  the  ministers  would  have  consented  to  any- 
thing to  get  me  away ;  no  situation  was  ever  more  brilliant 
or  more  dangerous. 

The  king  had  caused  the  cessation,  for  a  time,  of  the  in- 
ternal troubles  of  the  kingdom  by  recalling,  without  con- 
ditions, the  parliament  which  he  had  exiled  to  Soissons,  and 
by  enregistering  an  edict  containing  a  law  of  absolute 
silence  on  the  disputes  which  had  risen  over  the  bull  Uni- 
genitus.  The  recall  of  parliament  without  submission  on  its 
part  could  not  fail  to  give  it  fresh  strength,  and,  on  the 


1752-1755]  CARDINAL  t)E  BE&NIS.  193 

other  hand,  the  law  of  silence,  very  wise  in  itself,  had  the 
inconvenience  of  being  easier  to  propose  than  to  enforce; 
besides  which,  the  enforcement  of  the  law  being  in  the 
hands  of  parliament,  it  was  making  one  party  the  judge,  and 
could,  of  course,  reduce  to  silence  none  but  the  bullists. 

External  peace  was  no  better  secured  than  that  within  the 
nation.  The  Due  de  Mirepoix,  the  king's  ambassador  in  Eng- 
land, had  let  himself  be  amused  by  the  ministers  in  London. 
This  was  not  surprising.  The  Due  de  Mirepoix  was  virtu- 
ous, but  shallow;  what  was  surprising  is  that  the  king's 
Council  trusted  to  the  statements  of  such  an  ambassador; 
and  that  it  should  have  been  believed  at  Versailles  that  the 
Court  of  London  was  pacific,  when  all  Europe  saw  clearly 
that  it  was  about  to  declare  war  upon  us. 

The  king  had  no  other  basis  for  his  political  system  than 
his  alliance  with  the  King  of  Prussia,  who  was  distrusted 
with  good  reason,  and  for  sole  maxim  the  desire  to  preserve 
peace  as  long  as  possible.  But  it  is  well  known  that  a  State 
which  excites  the  jealousy  of  its  neighbours  can  preserve 
peace  only  by  a  good  internal  and  external  administration ; 
in  other  words,  when  it  is  in  a  condition  to  defend  itself  and 
to  attack. 

The  finances  of  the  kingdom,  which  were  then  governed 
by  M.  de  Se*chelles,  a  man  of  intelligence  but  worn-out,  had 
only  an  appearance  of  good  administration ;  for,  since  the 
Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  the  State  had  spent  every  year 
far  more  than  its  revenues ;  the  burdens  on  the  people  were 
not  diminished ;  and  all  the  money  of  the  kingdom  was 
virtually  in  the  hands  of  the  financiers.  Commerce  was 
nourishing,  but  without  support  from  the  navy.  We  had 
many  hulks,  and  few  vessels.  Our  militia,  though  numerous, 
was  neither  well  composed  nor  well  disciplined;  and  our 
frontier  forts,  ill-provided  and  out  of  repair,  completed  a 

VOL.    I.  —  13 


194  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  iv. 

very  sad  picture  of  the  state  of  France.  In  the  Council, 
no  union;  open  war  between  M.  d'Argenson  and  M.  de 
Machault ;  unbridled  license  in  proposals,  no  subordination 
established ;  the  Prince  de  Conti  having  an  almost  universal 
department,  yet  not  a  minister ;  Mme.  de  Pompadour  openly 
at  war  with  that  prince ;  the  king  holding  the  balance  in  the 
midst  of  these  divisions;  overflowing  luxury  of  the  most 
scandalous  nature ;  the  people  poverty-stricken ;  no  true  en- 
lightenment in  the  Council ;  no  citizen  courage  at  the  Court ; 
no  generals  by  land  or  sea  on  the  eve  of  war. 

Such  were  the  threatening  sights  that  came  before  me  on 
my  return  from  Venice.1 

1  This  brief  statement  tallies  exactly  with  the  Marquis  d'Argenson's 
bitter  complaints  and  details.  The  two  men  were  as  wide  apart  as  the 
poles  in  temperament,  in  their  methods  of  dealing  with  men  and  things, 
in  their  judgment  also  on  many  points ;  but  they  were  both  honest  men, 
with  eyes  and  minds  to  see  the  truth  and  state  it.  —  TB. 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BEKNIS. 


V. 


1755.  —  The  Situation  of  Mrae.  de  Pompadour  in  1755.  — -  Capture  of 
the  Vessels  "  Aleide  "  and  "  Lys."  —  My  Appointment  to  the  Spanish 
Embassy.  —  Secret  Proposals  of  the  Court  of  Vienna,  September,  1755. 
—  My  first  Conference  with  the  Austrian  Ambassador. — Account 
rendered  by  me  to  the  King  of  the  Memorial  of  Vienna.  —  Continuation 
of  the  Negotiations.  —  First  Secret  Committee  on  the  Vienna  affair.  — 
Affairs  of  Vienna,  Berlin,  and  Dresden.  —  My  own  Position. 

ON  arriving  from  Venice,  I  found  Mme.  de  Pompadour  in 
a  very  different  position  from  that  in  which  I  had  left  her ; 
she  was  no  longer  the  woman  environed  with  all  charming 
talents,  who  governed  France  from  a  centre  of  pleasures. 
The  king  had  ceased  for  some  years  to  feel  passion  for  her ; 
nothing  remained  in  him  but  friendship,  confidence,  and  that 
bond  of  habit  which,  in  princes,  is  the  strongest  of  all  ties. 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  needed  consolation ;  she  saw  me  return 
with  the  liveliest  joy.  I  was  her  tried  friend;  I  had  ac- 
quired a  rather  high  reputation,  which  she  regarded  as  her 
work.  She  did  not  delay  opening  her  heart  to  me  and  un- 
covering all  its  wounds.  She  told  me  of  the  king's  intrigue 
with  Mme.  de  Choiseul,  who,  one  year  earlier,  had  died  in 
child-bed;  she  told  me  how  Mme  d'Estrades,  instigated  by 
M.  d'Argenson,  had  conducted  that  intrigue  with  the  basest 
ingratitude.  She  related  to  me  the  manner  in  which  she  had 
been  able  to  convict  the  king  of  his  unfaithfulness  to  her, 
which  ,he  denied.  The  Comte  de  Stainville  (now  Due  de 
Choiseul)  had  made  himself  master  of  certain  letters  written 
by  the  king  to  his  cousin,  Mme.  de  Choiseul;  these  he 
gave  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  who  took  them  to  the  king. 


196  MEMOIRS  AtfD  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  V. 

So  important  a  service,  and  one  so  dangerous  to  render, 
produced  the  effect  which  the  Comte  de  Stainville  expected. 
He  had  no  trouble  in  persuading  Mme.  de  Pompadour  that 
a  feeling  stronger  even  than  love  had  led  him  to  risk  all  to 
be  useful  to  her.  Mme.  de  Pompadour  felt,  like  a  grateful 
woman,  the  importance  of  this  service;  from  that  moment 
she  changed  to  friendship  a  species  of  aversion  she  had 
always  felt  to  M.  de  Stainville;  her  heart,  naturally  kind 
and  feeling,  was  touched  by  the  danger  he  had  run  to  do 
her  service ;  she  made  him  her  friend.  For  justice  should 
be  done  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour;  all  the  coquetry  which 
people  attribute  to  her  is  honestly  in  the  mind;  her  heart 
is  not  susceptible  of  it.  Not  only  did  she  save  the  Comte 
de  Stainville  from  the  king's  anger,  but  she  got  him  ap- 
pointed to  the  embassy  of  Kome,  not  being  able  to  obtain 
for  him  that  of  Turin,  which  he  desired,  and  which  M.  de 
Saint-Contest  made  haste  to  give  to  M.  Chauvelin.  Such 
was  the  origin  of  the  great  fortunes  of  the  Due  de 
Choiseul. 

I  found  Mme.  de  Pompadour  much  disgusted  with  the 
Court.  She  showed  me  copies  of  letters  that  she  had  written 
to  the  king  to  obtain  permission  to  retire  from  it ;  nor  did 
she  make  a  mystery  to  me  of  those  she  wrote  to  him  on 
public  matters.  The  first  convinced  me  that  she  was  only 
filled  with  anger  and  disgust,  and  I  did  not  find  in  them  a 
firm  resolution  to  quit  the  world ;  the  second,  on  the  con- 
trary, seemed  to  me  admirable.  I  advised  her  to  change 
the  tone  of  the  first  letters,  which  were  certain  in  the  end 
to  weary  the  king,  and  to  remain  at  Court,  from  which  she 
was  not  really  detached,  and  where  she  could  be  useful.  This 
advice  was  given  without  any  risk  of  wounding  virtue,  for 
the  tie  between  Mme.  de  Pompadour  and  the  king  was 
now  pure,  and  without  danger  to  either.  There  was  only 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  197 

the  scandal  to  avoid.  I  shall  have  occasion  later  to  tell 
the  means  I  suggested  to  the  king  to  escape  that  evil. 

With  regard  to  the  letters  Mme.  de  Pompadour  had 
written  for  the  improvement  of  public  affairs,  I  should 
never  have  supposed  her  capable  of  telling  the  truth  to  the 
king  with  such  energy,  and  even  eloquence.  I  loved  her 
the  better,  and  esteemed  her  the  more  for  them.  I  exhorted 
her  not  to  weaken  that  style,  but  to  continue  to  tell  the 
truth  with  force  and  courage. 

I  made  her  feel  that  she  had  acted  unwisely  in  the 
jealousy  she  had  shown  of  the  Prince  de  Conti;  that  the 
more  she  insisted  on  keeping  him  at  a  distance,  the  more 
she  risked  encountering  the  resistance  of  the  king ;  that  in 
acting  with  greater  moderation,  and  less  temper,  her  repre- 
sentations would  have  much  greater  weight ;  and,  in  short, 
that  there  was  but  one  thing  to  say  to  the  king  about  the 
Prince  de  Conti :  "  If  you  wish  to  charge  him  with  your 
affairs  put  him  into  the  Council ;  if  you  have  not  confidence 
enough  in  him  to  give  him  that  place,  give  back  to  your 
ministers  the  management  of  those  affairs  which  the  prince 
has  usurped."  Mme.  de  Pompadour  followed  my  advice  in 
this  respect,  and  found  the  benefit  of  it.  The  king  soon 
after  gave  to  me  the  affair  of  the  parliament,  and  the  Prince 
de  Conti  worked  no  longer  with  his  Majesty. 

I  was  not  less  fortunate  in  persuading  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour that  she  ought  to  banish  temper  and  bitterness  in  her 
intercourse  with  the  king;  that  she  no  longer  had  the  right 
to  be  jealous ;  and  that  all  her  attention  should  be  confined 
to  making  her  society  amiable  and  agreeable  to  the  king, 
in  order  to  make  her  advice  more  useful.  I  pictured  to  her 
the  condition  of  the  kingdom,  the  disorder  of  the  finances, 
the  universal  insubordination,  and  the  loss  of  the  king's 
authority.  I  made  her  feel  how  fatal  the  quarrel  between 


198  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

M.  de  Machault  and  M.  d'Argenson  had  been  to  the  State ; 
I  urged  her  to  make  up  her  own  quarrel  with  Comte 
d'Argenson,  and  to  sacrifice  to  the  public  good  her  personal 
resentments.  She  yielded,  with  some  difficulty,  to  my  advice ; 
but  at  last  she  charged  me  with  the  negotiation,  to  which 
M.  d'Argenson  steadily  refused  to  agree,  not  only  at  the 
time  I  now  spoke  to  him,  but  some  time  later,  before  his 
dismissal. 

M.  d'Argenson  made  the  mistake  of  nearly  all  ministers 
who  have  been  well  treated  by  their  master.  They  think 
they  have  need  of  no  one,  and  they  imagine  that  when  their 
enemies  wish  to  be  reconciled,  it  is  because  they  are 
frightened,  because  their  position  is  bad,  and  therefore  that 
it  would  be  very  stupid  to  prevent  their  fall. 

It  can  now  be  seen  from  what  I  have  said  how  much 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  had  need  in  those  days  of  the  counsels 
of  a  friend  "  honest  man."  It  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel  that 
this  was  not  the  only  occasion  on  which  I  did  her  im- 
portant services,  and  that  if  she  contributed  to  my  fortune 
and  my  elevation,  I  acquitted  myself  towards  her,  not  only 
as  a  sensible  friend,  but  also  as  a  courageous  man  who  knew 
how  to  sacrifice  all  to  friendship  and  gratitude. 

I  followed  the  king  to  Compiegne ;  the  foreign  ministers, 
seeing  my  favour,  paid  me  more  assiduous  court  than  they 
did  to  the  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs ;  I  was  the  depositary 
of  the  complaints  they  made  against  M.  Eouill^,  whose 
incapacity  and  arrogance  revolted  them.  The  Baron  de 
Knyphausen,  minister  plenipotentiary  of  the  King  of  Prussia, 
never  left  me ;  he  tried  to  persuade  me  that  I  was  the  only 
minister  of  the  king  to  whom  he  could  speak,  and  the  only 
one  in  whom  his  master  had  confidence.  He  represented 
to  me  in  vivid  colours  the  blindness  of  my  Court,  which, 
without  being  aware  of  it,  was  on  the  verge  of  war  with 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  199 

England  and  her  allies.  He  complained  that  our  ministry 
would  take  no  measures  in  common  with  his  master,  who 
was  thus  left  exposed  to  attack ;  he  insisted  that  we  ought 
to  forestall  our  enemies,  and  declared  that  if  the  king  would 
enter  the  Low  Countries,  his  master  was  ready  to  enter 
Bohemia  at  the  head  of  140,000  men.  These  confidences, 
which  he  professed  to  make  in  the  greatest  secrecy,  were 
faithfully  reported  by  me  to  the  king;  but  I  was  much 
surprised  to  learn  that  what  M.  de  Knyphausen  whispered 
in  my  ear  he  was  proclaiming  on  the  house-tops.  This 
affectation  seemed  to  me  suspicious ;  and  it  will  be  seen  that 
I  was  not  mistaken. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  we  heard  of  the  un- 
expected attack  on  our  squadron  by  the  English  off  the  banks 
of  Newfoundland,  and  the  capture  of  the  frigates  "  Alcide  " 
and  "  Lys,"  without  any  previous  declaration  of  war.  All 
persons  of  good  sense  saw  that  a  naval  war  was  certain,  and 
that  a  land  war  must  soon  follow.  But  the  majority  of  the 
king's  Council  absolutely  persisted  in  thinking  that  war  with 
England  could  be  avoided  by  mildly  complaining  of  their 
proceeding  and  making  no  reprisals.  It  was  then  that  two 
contrary  opinions  rose  violently  in  the  Council.  The  Comte 
d'Argenson  and  all  the  military  regarded  the  aggression  of  the 
English  as  the  first  step  in  a  scheme  long  meditated  and  agreed 
upon  by  all  the  allies  of  England;  and  that  consequently 
that  scheme  should  be  frustrated  by  seizing  the  Austrian 
Low  Countries.  M.  Kouille*,  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
accepted  that  opinion  and  supported  it  by  memorials,  to 
which  M.  de  Machault  and  the  rest  of  the  Council  replied  by 
contradictory  memorials.  I  was  far,  indeed,  from  thinking 
then  that  I  should  be  the  instrument  used  by  the  king  to 
unite  him  with  the  empress,  and  as  I  was  firmly  convinced 
that  England  had  not  taken  this  overt  step  without  a  previous 


200  MEMOIES  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

understanding  with  Austria,  her  ally,  I  insisted  strongly  on 
the  necessity  of  breaking  up  this  dangerous  concert  of  our 
enemies. 

This  pen  war  soon  became  indecent,  because  each  side,  in 
order  to  make  partisans,  communicated  its  memorials,  thus 
divulging  to  the  public  the  secrets  of  State.  All  the 
Court,  not  excepting  the  women,  hotly  supported  either  one 
side  or  the  other ;  the  military  came  in  crowds  to  Compiegne 
asking  to  serve.  What  a  sight  for  the  foreign  ambassadors 
then  assembled  at  Court,  to  see  the  gravest  and  most  serious 
affairs  talked  of  as  if  at  a  cafe  !  This  question,  so  important 
for  the  State,  excited  such  warmth  solely  because  of  the 
personal  interest  taken  in  it  by  the  two  chief  ministers.  M. 
d'Argenson  desired  a  land  war  to  render  his  ministry  brilliant ; 
M.  de  Machault,  on  the  contrary,  desired  that  the  war  be 
confined  to  the  navy  for  reasons  equally  personal  But  it 
was  not  a  question  of  the  respective  interests  of  these  tw6 
ministers  when  the  good  and  glory  of  the  State  had  to  be 
decided  on.  A  council  was  held,  at  which  the  Mare*chal  de 
Noailles,  who  had  been  absent  for  some  days,  appeared.  The 
course  was  taken  of  taking  none ;  of  negotiating  with  Eng- 
land, preparing  slowly  for  a  sea-war,  and  leaving  our  ports 
open  to  the  English  while  the  latter  were  seizing  our 
merchant-vessels.  With  regard  to  the  invasion  of  the  Low 
Countries,  that  was  also  rejected. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  M.  de  Knyphausen 
renewed  his  declamations  with  an  indecency  and  publicity 
unparalleled ;  and  one  day  when  he  spoke  to  me  with  more 
heat  than  usual  I  could  not  help  saying  to  him :  "  If  I  were 
minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  here  is  what  I  should  think  of 
the  vehemence  with  which  you  preach  the  double  invasion 
of  the  Low  Countries  and  Bohemia.  I  should  believe  that 
your  master  wants  to  involve  us  for  his  own  interests  in  a 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  201 

war  with  Austria,  and  that  if  the  offer  that  he  makes  us  is 
refused,  he  will  consider  himself  quits  with  us  and  will, 
perhaps,  make  arrangements  with  our  enemies,  under  pretext 
of  shielding  himself."  I  was  a  prophet  without  knowing  it. 
The  King  of  Prussia  was  then  beginning  a  negotiation  with 
England  by  means  of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick;  but  we 
knew  nothing  of  that. 

Some  time  after  this  conversation,  M.  de  Knyphausen 
changed  his  tone  and  language.  He  praised  the  pacific 
system  of  the  king,  and  agreed  that  the  interests  of 
France  required  her  to  keep  to  a  sea-war  only.  He  even 
offered  me,  from  his  master,  plans  which  he  thought  in- 
fallible for  humiliating  England.  This  contrast  confirmed 
my  suspicions ;  I  no  longer  doubted  that  the  King  of  Prussia 
was  escaping  us.  I  communicated  my  ideas  to  the  min- 
istry, but,  with  the  exception  of  the  king  and,  perhaps,  M. 
de  Machault,  the  whole  Council  was  Prussian.  Neverthe- 
less, by  dint  of  insisting  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour  on  the 
danger  there  was  in  not  knowing  exactly  what  to  look  for 
from  the  King  of  Prussia,  it  was  resolved  (after  some 
months)  to  send  the  Due  de  Mvernais  to  Berlin. 

The  only  measure  that  was  taken  to  support  the  war 
was  that  of  searching  for  money.  It  was  simple  enough  to 
re-establish  the  dixieme,  but  M.  de  Machault  obstinately 
insisted  that  the  king  should,  by  declaration,  re-establish 
the  two  vingtiemes.  The  dixieme  would  have  been  equally 
productive  and  would  not  have  made  the  people  fear  that 
one  vingtieme  would  be  kept  on  after  the  war.  Parliament 
made  representations  that  were  not  listened  to  ;  heads  grew 
heated,  and  the  fermentation  in  the  parliaments,  which  had 
scarcely  subsided,  began  again  with  more  indecency  and 
uproar  than  ever.  The  king  was  obliged  to  register  his 
declaration  at  a  lit  de  justice  held  at  Versailles.  M.  de 


202  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

Maupeou,  the  chief-president,  addressed  the  king  in  a 
speech  that,  to  say  the  least,  was  bold ;  the  two  vingttimes 
were  established  with  much  difficulty,  discredit  for  authority, 
and  great  murmurs  on  the  part  of  the  people. 

I  groaned  deeply  at  the  species  of  paralysis  with  which 
the  government  was  attacked.  I  represented  France  to 
myself  as  a  wounded  man,  but  full  of  life,  whose  legs  and 
arms  were  bound  so  as  to  compel  him  to  lose  blood  and  be 
helpless  for  vengeance.  The  ministers  replied  to  all  my 
representations  with  the  popular  proverb:  Eira  lien  qui 
rira  le  dernier.  This  supposed,  at  least,  that  serious  prepara- 
tions were  being  made ;  but  in  reality  all  was  sunk  in 
torpor.  This  fatal  lethargy  excited  my  blood  to  the  point 
of  making  me  seriously  ill ;  it  was  not  the  first  nor  the 
last  time  in  my  life  that  I  have  experienced  that,  for  some 
souls,  love  of  country  is  the  strongest  of  all  loves.  I  own, 
nevertheless,  that  such  extreme  sensibility  is  a  defect  in  a 
minister;  but  it  must  also  be  said  that  it  is  not  common, 
and  that  it  presupposes  the  first  of  all  virtues  —  love  of 
the  public  welfare. 

During  my  illness  the  king  had  the  kindness  to  write  me 
a  note  in  which  he  promised  to  make  me  a  commander  of 
his  Order  the  next  time  that  promotions  were  made  in  my 
profession ;  that  flattering  mark  of  his  kindness  cured  my 
fever,  and  redoubled  the  patriotic  zeal  that  brought  it  on. 

As  soon  as  I  recovered  I  thought  of  taking  leave  of  the 
king  and  returning  to  Venice.  I  was  much  astonished  when 
M.  Kouille*,  by  order  of  the  king,  forbade  me  to  start.  I 
was  then  ignorant  that  the  Due  de  Duras,  our  ambassador 
in  Spain,  had  presented,  without  being  authorized  to  do  so, 
a  memorial  which  had  greatly  displeased  the  Court  of 
Madrid.  The  king  and  Council  thought  it  necessary  to  recall 
him  and  appoint  some  one  in  his  place  immediately.  In  the 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  203 

month  of  January  all  the  ministers  had  agreed  in  my  favour 
to  fill  that  post;  but  times  were  changed;  they  esteemed 
me  then,  and  did  not  fear  me ;  but  now  I  excited  an  almost 
universal  jealousy.  Each  minister  proposed  to  the  king  his 
own  protdgd  for  the  ministry  to  Spain,  but  his  Majesty  held 
firm ;  he  thought  that  as  I  had  had  all  the  suffrage  in 
January,  I  deserved  in  the  month  of  August  a  preference 
over  others. 

Thus  I  owed  the  embassy  to  Spain  to  the  firmness  of  the 
king,  and  perhaps,  in  part,  to  the  friendship  with  which 
Madame  Infanta  honoured  me ;  she  had  the  greatest  interests 
to  be  managed  in  Spain,  and  could  count  on  no  one  as  much 
as  on  me.  It  is  true  that  I  was  the  first  minister  who  had 
made  the  king  feel  how  improper  it  was  that  the  fate  of  her 
husband  the  Infant,  Duke  of  Parma,  had  not  been  settled 
by  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle. 

The  commission  intrusted  to  me  was  as  important  as  it 
was  delicate.  The  Due  de  Duras,  out  of  zeal  and  from  being 
too  eager  to  establish  a  family  compact  between  the  king 
and  King  Ferdinand  of  Spain,  had  spoiled  everything.  He 
had  given  himself  up  to  M.  de  1'Encenada,  who  was  now 
overthrown ;  he  was  on  bad  terms  with  the  Queen  of  Spain, 
and  on  still  worse  with  M.  Kicardo  Wall,  a  minister  of  State, 
whom  he  represented  in  his  despatches  as  sold  to  the 
English. 

As  soon  as  my  appointment  was  made  public,  envy,  which 
had  not  known  where  to  bite  me,  used  a  means  it  had  em- 
ployed before  when  I  went  to  Venice.  It  reprinted  a  col- 
lection of  prose  and  verse  which  had  appeared  under  my 
name  in  1739,  when  I  was  in  Auvergne;  I  had  publicly 
disavowed  it  before  my  reception  into  the  French  Academy 
in  1744.  In  truth,  that  collection  does  not  belong  to  me ; 
the  maimed  writings  of  several  living  authors  are  inserted 


204  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

in  it ;  and  the  pieces  of  which  I  am  really  the  writer  are  so 
altered  and  disfigured  that  I  have  the  right  to  disavow  them. 
A  great  number  of  copies  of  this  collection  were  sent  to 
Madrid,  but  people  there  thought,  as  in  Italy,  that  if  I  was 
the  author  of  it  I  had  one  talent  more  than  other  ministers. 
In  spite  of  its  poor  success,  this  form  of  malice  was  renewed 
whenever  it  was  hoped  to  injure  me.  I  am  very  fortunate 
to  have  had  no  hidden  wrong-doing ;  for  its  turpitude  would 
have  been  quickly  unveiled. 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  this  trip  to  Compiegne  that 
Mme.  d'Estrades,  who  owed  everything  to  her  cousin  Mme. 
de  Pompadour,  was  sent  away  from  Court.  She  had  been 
long  at  the  head  of  the  intrigues  of  Comte  d'Argenson,  and 
had  guided  that  of  his  niece,  Mme.  de  Choiseul. 

I  was  making  ready  for  my  journey  to  Spain,  on  which  I 
was  to  start  in  about  a  week,  when,  one  evening  after  leav- 
ing M.  Kouille",  I  received  a  note  from  Mme.  de  Pompadour 
telling  me  to  go  to  her  the  next  morning  at  ten  o'clock 
without  fail.  I  saw  that  some  urgent  affair  had  come  up, 
but  I  should  never,  in  a  thousand  years,  have  imagined  what 
it  really  was.  I  was  there  at  the  appointed  hour.  Mme.  de 
Pompadour  showed  me  a  letter  to  her  from  Comte  Starem- 
berg,  minister  plenipotentiary  of  their  Imperial  Majesties, 
in  which  he  asked  Mme.  de  Pompadour  for  an  interview  for 
the  purpose  of  giving  her  certain  secret  proposals  with 
which  he  was  charged  by  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa.  He 
asked  at  the  same  time  that  the  king  should  select  some  one 
of  his  ministers  to  be  present  at  this  conference,  who  should 
be  authorized  to  convey  to  his  Majesty  these  proposals,  and 
return  the  answer  which  the  king  might  think  proper  to 
make.  Nothing  could  equal  the  surprise  that  this  letter 
caused  me.  A  crowd  of  ideas  came  into  my  mind  concern- 
ing the  object  of  the  Court  of  Vienna,  and  also  about  my 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  205 

own  interests.  At  that  first  moment,  I  saw  only  a  trap  set 
for  the  king,  and  a  very  dangerous  reef  for  my  fortunes  and 
my  peace  of  mind.  I  asked  Mme.  de  Pompadour  if  it  was 
she  who  had  proposed  me  to  his  Majesty  for  this  confidence. 
She  assured  me  she  had  not ;  saying  that  the  king,  of  his  own 
monition,  had  chosen  me  in  preference  to  the  other  ministers, 
not  only  from  the  idea  he  had  of  my  capacity,  but  because  he 
knew  the  prejudices  of  his  ministers  against  the  Court  of 
Vienna. 

I  then  developed  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour  all  there  was  to 
fear  in  entering  into  a  negotiation  with  the  Court  of  Vienna, 
whether  it  was  sincere,  or  whether  it  was  only  seeking  to 
amuse  us.  In  the  first  case,  the  king  risked  two  things : 
first,  the  total  change  of  his  political  system  and  that  of 
Europe,  which  could  not  fail  to  upset  all  minds,  and  might 
produce  a  general  concussion.  I  added  that,  in  that  first 
case,  it  could  not  be  doubted  that  Austria  would  drag  us 
into  a  war  with  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  that  a  conflagration 
might  become  general  from  the  fear  felt  by  the  Protestant 
princes  at  the  union  between  the  two  great  Catholic  powers. 
I  made  her  feel  also  that  such  a  war,  foreign  to  the  interests 
of  the  nation,  would  displease  all  France ;  that  the  king  had 
no  tried  generals  fit  to  lead  his  armies,  nor  a  treasury  in 
sufficiently  good  condition  to  sustain  the  burden  of  a  dual 
war  by  sea  and  land. 

In  the  second  case,  the  Court  of  Vienna,  the  enemy  for 
the  last  three  hundred  years  of  that  of  France,  had  great 
interest  in  causing  jealousy  to  our  allies  by  feigned  negotia- 
tions ;  so  that  we  could  without  injustice  suspect  it  of  wish- 
ing to  amuse  us  and  so  gain  time  to  strengthen  an  alliance 
with  England,  Holland,  Eussia,  and,  perhaps,  the  King  of 
Sardinia.  I  represented  the  danger  there  was  of  rendering 
the  King  of  Prussia  uneasy,  and  thus  giving  him  a  pretext 


206  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

for  unfaithfulness,  in  case  France  was  left  without  allies; 
for  Austria,  having  succeeded  in  detaching  them  from  us, 
would  not  fail  of  pretexts  herself  to  break  off  a  specious 
and  frivolous  negotiation. 

As  I  was  ending  these  reflections,  the  king,  to  whom  I 
had  never  yet  spoken  on  public  business,  entered  the  room 
and  asked  me  abruptly  what  I  thought  of  M.  de  Starem- 
berg's  letter.  I  repeated  to  his  Majesty  what  I  had  just 
said  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour.  The  king  heard  me  with 
impatience,  and  when  I  ended  he  said,  almost  angrily, 
"  You  are  like  the  rest — the  enemy  of  the  Queen  of  Hun- 
gary." I  answered  that  no  one  admired  that  princess  more 
than  I  did ;  that  I  knew  she  had  sent  Comte  Kaunitz  to 
Versailles  to  make  a  treaty  of  alliance  with  his  Majesty; 
that  I  was  not  ignorant  of  a  conversation  the  queen-empress 
had  held  with  Blondel,  our  minister  in  Vienna ;  besides  which 
I  had  heard  it  said  that  her  father,  Charles  VI.,  had  advised 
her  on  his  deathbed  to  unite  herself  with  France  if  she  de- 
sired to  keep  her  dominions ;  but  that  all  these  reasons  could 
not  prevent  me  from  pausing  on  the  two  reflections  I  had 
just  explained  to  his  Majesty,  and  which  I  submitted  to  his 
judgment ;  moreover,  his  Majesty,  would  do  well  to  consult 
those  of  his  ministers  in  whom  he  had  most  confidence. 
"  Well,  then,"  said  the  king,  with  some  emotion,  "  I  may  as 
well  make  a  fine  compliment  to  M.  de  Staremberg,  and  tell 
him  he  will  not  be  listened  to."  "  That  is  not  my  meaning, 
sire,"  I  answered;  "Your  Majesty  has  everything  to  gain 
by  learning  the  intentions  of  the  Court  of  Vienna,  but  care 
must  be  taken  as  to  the  answer  that  is  made."  The  king's 
face  became  more  serene ;  he  ordered  me  to  listen  to  M.  de 
Staremberg's  proposals  in  presence  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour, 
who  was  to  be  present  at  the  first  conference  only. 

The  empress  exacted  from  the  king,  and  promised  him 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  207 

in  return,  inviolable  secrecy,  in  a  form  which  I  cannot  repeat 
because  it  relates  to  the  secret  pledge  they  gave  to  each 
other.  The  empress  also  asked  that  no  secretary  be  em- 
ployed for  the  writings;  and  that  when  the  king  or  the 
empress  judged  it  best  to  admit  one  of  their  ministers  to 
the  secret  they  should  give  each  other  notice  reciprocally. 
Thus  for  a  long  time  there  was  no  one  at  the  Court  of 
Vienna  but  the  empress,  the  emperor,  and  Count  Kaunitz 
who  knew  of  this  negotiation,  and  no  one  in  France  but  the 
king,  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  and  myself  who  knew  of  it ;  the 
intention  of  the  empress  being  to  negotiate  as  if  she  were 
tete  a  tete  with  the  king.  This  singular  system  redoubled 
my  fears  and  my  suspicions.  If  I  had  been  merely  an 
ambitious  man  I  should  have  seen  the  advantage  of  being 
alone  in  the  confidence  of  my  master,  and  having  in  my 
hands  the  thing  he  had  most  at  heart ;  for  the  king  did  not 
conceal  that  what  he  had  desired  all  his  life  was  to  have 
the  Court  of  Vienna  for  his  ally ;  that  he  believed  it 
was  the  sole  means  of  securing  a  long  peace  and  maintain- 
ing the  Catholic  religion.  This  decided  bias  of  the  king  did 
not  prevent  me  from  representing  to  him  in  the  strongest 
manner  that  it  was  necessary  I  should  be  aided  and  advised 
by  his  minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  or  by  such  other  member 
of  the  Council  as  his  Majesty  might  think  proper  to  select. 
My  urgency  was  in  vain;  all  that  I  could  obtain  was  a 
promise  the  king  gave  me  to  think  of  it  after  the  negotiation 
had  begun  to  take  a  serious  form. 

Seeing  the  king  inflexible,  I  asked  him  for  a  power 
written  by  his  own  hand  authorizing  me  to  listen  to  M.  de 
Staremberg  and  answer  him  in  the  king's  name;  with  a 
formal  order  to  me  to  report  to  his  Majesty  alone  what  took 
place  at  these  conferences.  I  also  obtained  from  the  king 
that  he  would  approve  with  his  own  hand  the  answers 


208  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

and  memorials  that  I  should  give  in  his  name  to  M.  de 
Staremberg,  —  a  wise  precaution  which  I  did  not  relinquish 
throughout  the  course  of  this  long  negotiation.  The  king 
ordered  me  to  draw  up  the  form  of  power  that  I  wanted ; 
I  wrote  it  under  his  eye ;  he  took  the  minute,  carried  it  to 
his  cabinet,  and  fifteen  minutes  later  brought  the  power 
back  to  me,  written  and  signed  in  due  form  by  the  royal 
hand.  I  never  saw  as  much  satisfaction  and  serenity  on 
the  king's  face  as  I  observed  at  that  moment.  He  ordered 
me  to  make  an  appointment  with  M.  de  Staremberg  for  the 
next  day,  in  order  to  arrange  with  him  the  day  and  place 
of  the  first  conference. 

A  moment  later  the  king  went  away  to  attend  the  Council. 
I  remained  alone  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  who  told  me 
that  M.  de  Kaunitz,  during  his  embassy,  had  frequently 
solicited  her  to  bring  the  king  to  agree  to  the  desire  the 
empress  had  to  ally  herself  with  France ;  that  the  king  had 
always  wished  for  this  alliance,  from  his  friendship  and 
esteem  for  the  empress,  from  motives  of  religion,  and  also 
from  the  little  confidence  he  felt  in  the  King  of  Prussia,  who 
had  shown  him  much  unfaithfulness  and  might  show  him 
more.  I  comprehended,  from  what  was  said  to  me,  that  the 
alliance  with  the  King  of  Prussia  weighed  upon  the  king, 
as  much  on  account  of  the  difference  in  religion  as  because 
of  the  little  circumspection  with  which  the  King  of  Prussia 
had  talked  about  his  government  and  other  matters  personal 
to  the  king. 

I  made  Mme.  de  Pompadour  feel  that  all  these  motives 
must  be  made  to  harmonize  with  prudence  and  the  good  of  the 
State ;  I  congratulated  her  on  the  flattering  confidence  shown 
to  her  by  the  Court  of  Vienna,  and  on  the  certainty  that  her 
position  would  become  the  firmer  and  her  favour  the  more 
assured  by  her  being  so  closely  allied  to  an  affair  of  such 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  209 

great  importance.  For  myself,  I  showed  her  only  regret  at 
being  charged  with  this  affair ;  it  is  true  that  I  saw  in  this 
negotiation  too  great  an  embarkation  for  France,  and  for  me 
a  dangerous  commission,  which,  though  raising  me  very  high, 
might  fling  me  down  into  disgrace.  Mme.  de  Pompadour 
reassured  me  on  the  liking  the  king  had  for  me,  and  the  con- 
fidence with  which  he  honoured  me.  In  spite  of  that,  I  told 
her  I  should  act  in  the  matter  with  the  same  precautions  as 
if  I  expected  to  be  arrested  in  three  months.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve in  presentiments,  but  I  trust  to  my  first  coup  d'ceil ;  it 
has  never  deceived  me. 

The  king  returned  from  the  Council  and  had  the  goodness 
to  tell  me  that  he  had  sounded  two  of  the  ministers  in  a  very 
adroit  and  guarded  manner  on  the  objections  I  had  made  as  to 
the  danger  of  negotiating  with  Vienna  under  present  circum- 
stances. "  You  will  be  pleased,"  he  added,  "  for  they  thought 
as  you  do."  I  saw  that  this  conformity  of  opinion  increased 
his  confidence  in  my  advice.  From  that  time  he  treated  me 
with  a  kindness  and  familiarity  which  showed  that  he  was 
much  at  his  ease  with  me, —  a  condition  which  greatly  dimin- 
ished the  awe  he  always  inspired  in  me. 

In  conformity  with  the  king's  orders  I  went  to  see  M.  de 
Staremberg  to  tell  him  I  had  been  chosen  to  treat  with  him. 
He  assured  me  he  had  never  doubted  that  the  choice  would 
fall  on  me  ;  he  seemed  very  glad  of  it,  and  we  talked  of  the 
reciprocal  desire  our  sovereigns  had  to  unite  themselves  by  the 
ties  of  sincere  friendship.  We  fixed  the  first  conference  for 
the  next  day,  in  a  little  house  at  the  lower  end  of  the  Belle- 
vue  terrace,  where  we  were  to  go  from  different  directions, 
after  sending  away  our  servants  and  carriages.  I  shall  say 
here,  in  passing,  that  my  meetings  with  M.  de  Staremberg 
were  so  secret  that  for  more  than  six  months  the  foreign 
ministers  never  suspected  our  intercourse. 

VOL.    1.— 14 


210  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  r. 

I  was  the  last  to  arrive  at  Bellevue.  M.  de  Staremberg 
read  his  memorial.  I  had  agreed  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour 
(who  was  present  at  this  first  conference)  that  while  M.  de 
Staremberg  was  explaining  the  proposals  of  the  Court  of 
Vienna  we  should  not  betray  our  thoughts  by  look  or  ges- 
ture ;  the  precaution  was  wise,  for  M.  de  Staremberg  did  not 
read  a  line  without  searching  in  our  eyes  for  the  impression 
made  upon  us.  I  own  that  nothing  ever  surprised  me  more 
than  the  way  the  empress  took  to  propose  her  alliance  to  the 
king ;  she  supposed  him  displeased  with  the  King  of  Prussia 
and  aware  of  the  latter's  negotiations  with  the  English  Court, 
—  a  circumstance  which  was  until  that  moment  entirely  un- 
known to  the  Court  of  Versailles.  The  empress,  instead  of 
using  by-ways  and  craft,  imparted  her  views  to  the  king 
with  the  utmost  frankness,  proposing  to  his  Majesty  advan- 
tages which  would,  of  necessity,  interest  his  heart,  and  an 
extensive  plan  about  which  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  speak. 

After  the  reading  of  the  memorial,  M.  de  Staremberg  dic- 
tated it  to  me,  word  for  word,  and  collated  my  copy.  We 
separated  without  any  signs  of  approval  or  disapproval. 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  had  withdrawn  after  the  reading  of  the 
memorial.  I  was  left  with  M.  de  Staremberg,  and  from  him 
I  heard  several  particulars  which  I  reported  to  the  king.  I 
am  able  to  state  only  one :  the  Court  of  Vienna  had  long 
hesitated  whether  to  address  itself  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour 
or  to  the  Prince  de  Conti  as  the  means  of  making  its  pro- 
posals to  the  king.  MM.  de  Kaunitz  and  de  Staremberg 
turned  the  scales  in  favour  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour. 

The  memorial  of  the  Court  of  Vienna  informed  us  of  the 
negotiations  of  the  King  of  Prussia  with  England;  that 
knowledge  was  the  first  advantage  we  gained  from  the  mem- 
orial. Secondly,  the  Court  of  Vienna  told  us  its  secret  inten- 
tions, without  knowing  whether  we  would  tell  ours;  and 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  211 

though  the  result  justified  the  boldness  of  this  step,  I  have 
always  wondered  that  M.  de  Kaunitz  advised  it.  The  plan 
proposed  to  the  king  was  the  work  of  M.  de  Kaunitz.  It 
was  large,  perhaps  too  vast,  too  complicated;  but  it  pre- 
sented objects  of  real  interest  to  France,  means  of  securing 
the  peace  of  Europe  on  solid  foundations,  and  some  matters 
capable  of  moving  the  affectionate  and  paternal  heart  of  the 
king  in  respect  to  his  children  and  grandchildren;  my  duty 
does  not  allow  me  to  say  more. 

After  reflecting  carefully  over  this  plan  thus  proposed,  I 
felt  that  the  king  ought  to  answer  with  much  circumspec- 
tion overtures  so  important  and  so  unexpected.  I  drew  up 
the  answer  that  I  thought  ought  to  be  made,  and  went  to 
Choisy  to  submit  it  to  the  king.  I  made  his  Majesty  feel,  in 
the  account  I  gave  him  of  the  first  conference,  that  the  reflec- 
tions I  had  previously  made  to  him  on  the  danger  of  this 
negotiation  were  just.  The  king  approved  the  plan  of  con- 
duct I  suggested  to  him  to  avoid  the  rocks  on  which  this 
great  affair  might  cast  us. 

The  king  answered  the  Court  of  Vienna  in  the  memorial 
as  I  had  written  it,  approved  in  his  own  handwriting,  saying : 
that  nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  to  him  than  to  unite 
himself  with  the  empress  by  the  ties  of  unalterable  friend- 
ship and  an  eternal  alliance,  but  that,  faithful  himself  to  his 
friends,  he  could  not  suspect  their  sincerity,  still  less  take 
any  measure  which  could  be  adverse  to  them ;  that  his  whole 
desire  was  to  maintain  the  peace  sworn  at  Aix-la-Chapelle, 
and  that  if  the  empress  judged  it  well  to  work  in  concert 
with  him  for  so  salutary  an  object  his  Majesty  was  all  ready 
to  concur. 

This  answer  had  no  drawback  for  us ;  the  king  played  a 
fine  role ;  the  empress  might  certainly  regret  having  advanced 
so  far ;  but  that  was  precisely  what  removed  all  fear  that  she 


212  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

would  take  part  with  our  enemies  before  she  knew  exactly 
what  to  expect  from  France. 

The  king,  in  spite  of  his  extreme  desire  to  unite  himself 
at  once  with  the  empress,  felt  and  approved  the  wisdom 
of  this  answer  and  the  plan  of  negotiation  it  suggested.  I 
saw  that  his  confidence  in  me  increased ;  in  fact,  from  that 
day  the  king  never  opposed  any  of  my  projects  nor  any  of 
my  memorials.  This  indulgence  on  his  part  redoubled  the 
fear  I  had  in  being  intrusted  alone,  and  without  help  from 
the  ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs,  with  a  negotiation  so  impor- 
tant in  itself  and  in  its  possible  consequences.  I  again  made 
earnest  requests  that  the  Council  of  the  king,  the  whole 
or  a  part,  might  be  informed  of  my  commission  and  told  to 
enlighten  my  work.  My  efforts  were  useless,  and  it  was 
not  until  six  weeks  later  that  I  obtained  the  king's  per- 
mission to  have  conferences  with  four  of  the  ministers,  as  I 
shall  presently  relate.  If  I  had  been  more  ambitious  than  wise 
I  should,  after  representing  to  the  king  the  necessity  of  my 
being  aided  by  the  advice  of  his  ministers,  have  yielded  to 
his  repugnance  and  remained  sole  master  of  a  most  impor- 
tant State  affair,  obtaining  easily  the  power  and  influence 
necessary  to  direct  and  terminate  it.  But,  as  I  have  already 
remarked,  I  feared  the  results  of  the  negotiation,  both  for  the 
kingdom  and  for  myself. 

One  of  the  principal  points  in  the  plan  of  conduct  I  pro- 
posed to  the  king  was  the  sending  to  the  King  of  Prussia  an 
enlightened  minister  who  could  fathom  the  sentiments  of  that 
king  and,  so  to  speak,  feel  his  pulse  and  discover  his  true 
intentions  at  the  moment  when  war  was  imminent  between 
France  and  England.  The  minister  was  also  to  be  charged 
to  clear  up  the  suspicions  the  Court  of  Vienna  had  given  us 
as  to  the  negotiations  of  the  King  of  Prussia  with  the  English 
through  the  Duke  of  Brunswick ;  in  this  way  the  king  would 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  213 

avoid  the  double  risk  of  suspecting  a  faithful  ally  or  of  being 
the  dupe  of  a  perfidious  friend.  Moreover,  a  knowledge  of 
the  sentiments  of  the  King  of  Prussia  was  necessary  to  ex- 
tend or  contract  the  arrangements  that  we  might  make  with 
the  Court  of  Vienna ;  for  if  it  was  true  that  the  King  of 
Prussia  was  abandoning  us,  the  king  would  be  without  allies, 
and  he  must  either  unite  himself  to  the  Court  of  Vienna  or 
run  the  risk  of  being  exposed  to  a  league  of  all  the  great 
powers  of  Europe.  These  reasons  struck  the  king's  mind,  and 
soon  after  the  Duke  de  Nivernais,  a  well-informed  man  of  a 
wise  and  enlightened  mind,  was  chosen  to  go  to  Berlin. 

I  expected  that  the  Comte  de  Staremberg  would  not  be 
satisfied  with  the  reserved  reply  I  had  orders  to  transmit  to 
him ;  he  did  not  conceal  from  me  either  his  surprise  or  his 
vexation;  but  he  finally  copied  the  king's  reply  from  my 
dictation  and  sent  the  letter  the  next  day  by  a  courier,  whom 
the  Court  of  Vienna  sent  back  without  delay.  M.  de  Starem- 
berg notified  me  of  his  arrival  and  communicated  the  reply 
of  his  Court,  which,  without  being  harsh,  was  cold  and  laconic. 
The  empress  renounced  the  plan  she  had  proposed,  as  it  was 
not  to  the  taste  of  the  king,  and  would  wait  for  his  Majesty 
to  explain  the  objects  which  might  serve  as  a  basis  for  the 
two  Courts  to  take  common  action. 

I  soon  remitted  to  M.  de  Staremberg  a  second  reply  from 
the  king,  in  which  I  studied  to  remove  the  fears  and 
umbrage  which  our  reserve  had  roused  in  the  Court  of  Vienna. 
That  first  impression  did  not  begin  to  fade  for  more  than  six 
weeks,  and  after  many  replies  and  responses  from  the  two 
Courts.  I  then  perceived  that  it  was  possible  to  detach  the 
empress  from  her  alliance  with  England,  and  that  by  binding 
the  King  of  Prussia  not  to  break  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle, 
the  peace  of  the  continent  could  be  secured ;  the  king  would 
then  have  no  other  burden  to  support  than  that  of  the  war  he 


214  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

was  about  to  have  with  England.  That  prospect,  happy  for 
France  and  for  Europe,  dispersed  my  anxieties,  inspired  my 
work,  and  warmed  my  zeal. 

I  conceived  then  the  project  of  a  treaty  of  reciprocal 
guarantee  between  the  States  of  the  king  in  Europe  and 
those  of  the  empress-queen,  to  which  their  respective  allies 
should  be  invited  to  accede,  with  the  exception  of  England ; 
this  last  point  would  of  course  be  difficult  to  obtain.  I  drew 
up  the  articles  of  this  treaty  of  union  and  guarantee.  The 
king  approved  them,  and  felt  how  fortunate  he  would  be  if 
the  work  could  be  thus  terminated ;  it  would  be  the  means  of 
securing  the  peace  of  Europe  during  his  reign  and  that  of  the 
empress.  His  Majesty  authorized  me  to  make  the  first  over- 
tures of  this  salutary  plan  to  the  empress's  minister.  The 
memorial  which  I  gave  him  was  welcomed  fairly  well  in 
Vienna ;  the  empress  had  in  fact  advanced  too  far  to  venture 
on  making  no  agreement  with  us.  She  answered  that  she 
would  authorize  her  minister  to  discuss  with  me  the  different 
points  of  this  treaty  of  union  and  guarantee. 

In  this  condition  of  things,  the  negotiation  taking  a  more 
serious  turn,  I  was  unwilling  any  longer  to  be  the  sole 
person  charged  with  an  affair  so  important.  I  represented 
to  the  king  that  in  spite  of  all  my  attention  I  was  liable 
to  make  considerable  mistakes,  not  being  informed  of  what 
was  happening  in  the  different  cabinets  of  Europe,  whereas 
M.  de  Staremberg  was  aided  by  all  the  lights  of  his  Court ; 
that  the  game  was  not  equal,  and  that  no  earthly  induce- 
ment would  make  me  involve  the  king  in  such  serious 
engagements  unless  I  were  enlightened  by  his  ministers. 
I  asked  him  therefore  to  appoint  such  members  of  his 
Council  as  he  judged  suitable,  to  whom  I  could  render  an 
account,  in  committee,  of  what  had  passed  up  to  this  time 
with  the  Court  of  Vienna,  and  of  the  negotiation  now  opened. 


1755]  CAEDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  215 

The  king  yielded  with  difficulty  to  my  request ;  but  finally 
he  chose,  to  confer  with  me,  M.  de  Machault,  then  secretary 
of  State  for  the  navy,  M.  de  Se*chelles,  controller-general  of 
finances,  M.  Kouille*,  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  M. 
Saint-Florentin,  minister  of  State.  I  expressed  some  sur- 
prise that  M.  d'Argenson,  minister  of  war,  was  not  admitted 
to  this  secret  committee;  the  king  told  me  that  when  the 
affair  was  further  advanced  he  would  be  called  into  it  as 
well  as  the  other  members  of  the  Council. 

The  surprise  of  the  ministers  of  the  king  whom  I  have 
just  named  can  be  imagined  when  I  told  them  what  had 
happened  since  the  month  of  November.  M.  de  Machault 
and,  above  all,  M.  Kouill£  could  only  imperfectly  conceal 
their  vexation.  The  Comte  de  Saint-Florentin  was  the  only 
one  who  expressed  any  joy  at  seeing  me  in  the  confidence  of 
the  sovereign.  I  showed  them  my  order  and  power  from 
the  king  to  negotiate  with  M.  de  Staremberg,  and  all  the 
memorials  sent  to  the  Court  of  Vienna,  approved  in  the 
hand-writing  of  his  Majesty.  It  was  agreed  between  us 
that  in  future,  before  treating  with  the  Austrian  minister, 
and  before  presenting  to  the  king  any  memorial  relative  to 
the  negotiation,  I  should,  each  time,  explain  to  the  com- 
mittee the  object  of  my  conference,  and  the  subject  of  my 
memorial.  This  system  was  constantly  followed  throughout 
the  whole  course  of  the  negotiation ;  I  wished  the  latter  to 
be  regarded,  not  as  my  own  work,  but  as  that  of  the  king 
and  his  Council;  it  was  the  only  way  to  shelter  myself 
from  possible  events. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  now  the  excessive  labour  this 
involved.  I  wrote  with  my  own  hand,  under  M.  de  Starem- 
berg's  dictation,  the  answers  and  memorials  sent  by  his 
Court,  of  which  I  made  a  copy  for  the  minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs;  I  did  the  same  for  the  replies  and  memorials 


216  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

returned  in  the  king's  name ;  besides  this,  I  composed  and 
made  minutes  of  all  the  projects  and  counter-projects  relat- 
ing to  treaties  and  conventions ;  at  each  difficulty  I  was 
forced  to  write  memorials  to  explain  matters ;  and  when  the 
king  was  absent  from  Versailles,  and  the  Council  dispersed, 
I  was  obliged  to  write  detailed  despatches  to  all  the  members 
of  the  committee.  For  this  immense  labour  I  was  not 
allowed  to  employ  a  secretary  from  the  month  of  September, 
1755,  until  the  month  of  March,  1757,  at  which  time  my 
health  totally  broke  down.  To  preserve  the  secret  of  this 
negotiation,  I  was  obliged  to  give  myself  up  to  society,  and 
to  lead  the  life  of  a  man  who  has  nothing  to  do ;  I  was 
therefore  compelled  to  spend  my  nights  in  work.  Add  to 
these  fatigues  of  the  body  the  anxieties  of  a  man  who  excites 
the  jealousy  of  all  the  king's  Council ;  the  perpetual  watch- 
fulness necessary  to  avoid  the  snares  laid  for  me  in  all 
directions,  and  the  spies  which  the  foreign  ministers  and 
those  of  the  king  not  admitted  to  the  committee  set  upon 
me ;  a  picture  will  thus  be  had  of  a  situation  which  I  am 
now  astonished  that  I  was  able  to  resist.  I  am  not  less 
surprised  that  the  secret  of  the  affair  confided  to  me  has 
never  transpired. 

The  king,  at  my  entreaty,  had  sent  the  Due  de  Mvernais 
to  Berlin.  The  King  of  Prussia  neglected  nothing  to  cajole 
that  minister,  who,  ignorant  of  our  negotiations  with  the 
Court  of  Vienna,  was  strongly  of  opinion  that  the  king 
ought  to  renew  his  treaty  with  Prussia.  That  king  testified 
to  the  duke  the  greatest  attachment  to  France,  and  excessive 
fear  of  the  treaty  of  subsidies  which  England  had  just 
concluded  with  Russia  for  the  payment  of  eighty  thousand 
men  [signed  in  Petersburg,  September  30,  1755].  This 
alarm  of  the  King  of  Prussia  was  reasonable  enough,  but 
he  exaggerated  it  to  give  himself  an  excuse  in  our  eyes  for 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  217 

the  convention  he  had  just  signed  with  the  English  Court.  It 
was  not  until  February,  1756,  that  his  Prussian  Majesty 
admitted  this  arrangement  plainly  to  the  Due  de  Nivernais. 
He  then  showed  him  the  treaty,  signed  by  his  minister  in 
London,  and  in  spite  of  the  Due  de  Mvernais'  solicitations, 
he  ratified  it  before  his  very  eyes,  offering  at  the  same  time 
to  renew  his  treaty  with  us ;  thus  contracting  at  the  same 
time  with  two  powers  at  enmity,  which  had  an  appearance 
of  veritable  derision. 

When  I  was  consulted  as  to  this  renewal  of  alliance  with 
the  King  of  Prussia,  I  said  distinctly  that  it  ought  to  be 
done,  provided  the  King  of  Prussia  would  abrogate  his 
convention  with  England ;  for  it  could  not  be  permitted  that 
he  should  sign  a  treaty  with  his  right  hand  with  England, 
and  one  with  his  left  hand  with  us.  This  opinion  was  that 
of  the  committee  also,  and  the  king  adopted  it.  The  Due 
de  Nivernais  was,  in  consequence,  written  to,  and  recalled 
after  making  vain  efforts  to  induce  the  King  of  Prussia  to 
break  his  treaty  with  the  Court  of  London.  M.  de  Niver- 
nais was  ignorant  of  our  negotiations  with  the  Court  of 
Vienna.  I  must  not  forget  to  mention  here  that  the  King 
of  Prussia  said  to  him,  when  he  reproached  his  Majesty  for 
concluding  a  treaty  with  England  without  our  knowledge : 
"Here  you  are,  very  angry;  why  don't  you  make  a  treaty 
with  the  empress  ?  I  should  have  no  objections."  He  was 
reminded  of  this  remark  when  the  Treaty  of  Versailles  was 
communicated  to  him. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  that  we  could  no  longer  count  on  the 
King  of  Prussia  I  made  every  effort  to  induce  the  Council 
of  the  king,  especially  M.  Kouille',  to  grant  a  subsidy  to  the 
King  of  Poland,  Elector  of  Saxony,  in  order  to  oblige  that 
prince  to  maintain  an  army  of  fifty  thousand  men,  and 
secure  Saxony  against  an  invasion  by  the  King  of  Prussia. 


218  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  v. 

The  Comte  de  Broglie,  our  ambassador  in  Dresden,  vehe- 
mently solicited  this  treaty  of  subsidy.  M.  Rouille*  was 
rather  inclined  to  it,  but  MM.  de  Machault  and  de  S^chelles 
opposed  it  strongly.  In  vain  I  represented  that  as  soon  as 
the  King  of  Prussia  knew  of  our  relations  with  the  empress 
he  would  not  fail  to  attack  Bohemia  unexpectedly,  and  take 
possession  of  the  Electorate  of  Saxony.  They  answered 
that  I  did  not  know  the  King  of  Prussia ;  that,  bold  as  he 
seemed,  he  would  die  of  fear  the  moment  he  saw  that  we 
had  allied  ourselves  to  the  Court  of  Vienna ;  that  he  could 
not  do  anything  without  us ;  and  would  think  himself  very 
lucky  if  we  did  not  attack  him.  Can  it  be  believed  that  the 
Council  of  the  greatest  king  in  Europe  could  have  judged 
so  falsely  of  the  King  of  Prussia  ?  This  bad  judgment  was 
the  cause  of  all  the  evils  of  the  present  war.  I  shall  often 
have  occasion  to  refer  to  it.  No  doubt  persons  will  be 
amazed  that  the  king,  having  more  confidence  in  me  as  to 
foreign  affairs  than  in  any  other  of  his  ministers,  should  not 
have  followed  my  opinion  on  a  point  so  essential;  but  I 
was  alone  against  many,  and  people  count  votes  more  than 
they  weigh  them. 

We  shall  see,  in  the  end,  on  how  many  important  occa- 
sions my  opinion  on  public  affairs  was  opposed  and  neglected. 
I  had  been  chosen  as  the  architect  of  a  great  work,  but  I 
was  never  master  of  its  guidance,  and  the  choice  of  means 
and  workmen  often  depended  on  persons  the  most  opposed 
to  the  system  the  king  had  undertaken  to  carry  out.  Will 
it  be  believed  that  during  our  two  years'  negotiations  with 
the  Court  of  Vienna,  M.  Rouille*,  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
was  never  willing  to  communicate  to  me  what  was  going 
on  in  the  Courts  of  Germany  and  the  North,  and  that  he 
limited  all  my  information  to  letters  which  arrived  from 
Madrid,  on  the  pretext  that  I  was  only  the  ambassador  to 


1755]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  219 

Spain.  Not  only  did  he  refuse  me  lights  which  were  neces- 
sary to  negotiate  advantageously  with  M.  de  Staremberg,  but 
he  often  gave  instructions  to  the  king's  ministers  in  Ger- 
many that  were  very  contrary  to  the  language  that  I  held 
to  the  ministers  of  the  empress,  so  that  complaints  and 
distrust  were  continual  from  the  Court  of  Vienna. 

The  king  was  informed  of  conduct  so  extraordinary  and 
so  prejudicial  to  his  interests;  he  groaned  over  it;  but  M. 
Kouilld  was  old  and  infirm,  the  king  knew  his  jealousy  and 
his  weaknesses,  and,  by  excess  of  kindness,  he  would  not 
mortify  him  by  commanding  him  to  open  to  me  the  portfolio 
of  Foreign  Affairs.  To  conciliate  his  interests  with  his 
kindness,  and  in  order  that  I  should  be  fully  informed  of 
what  it  was  so  important  for  me  to  know,  it  will  presently 
be  seen  that  the  king  appointed  me  to  his  Council;  the 
same  motive  subsequently  determined  his  Majesty  to  make 
me  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  in  1758.  Thus  it  was  to 
the  jealousy  of  M.  Rouill£,  and  not  to  the  favour  I  enjoyed, 
that  I  owed  these  two  important  positions.  The  intention 
of  the  king  was  not  to  let  me  occupy  them  until  after  my 
return  from  my  embassies  to  Madrid  and  Vienna.  I  am 
assured  of  this  fact  by  a  letter  from  the  king  to  Madame 
Infanta  which  she  communicated  to  me  at  Versailles. 


220  MEMOIES  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 


VI. 


1755-1756.  — The  Affair  of  the  Kequisition,  and  that  of  Minorca.  —  Con- 
tinuation of  Negotiations  with  Vienna.  — The  Treaty  of  Versailles.  — 
Publication  of  the  Treaty  in  July,  1756. — Negotiations  with  the  Court 
of  Vienna.  —  The  King  of  Prussia  assembles  his  Forces  and  threatens 
an  Invasion  of  Saxony  and  Bohemia. 

I  FELT  certain  from  the  cautious  treatment  shown  by  our 
ministers  to  England  that  some  sort  of  negotiation  had 
suspended  the  activity  of  the  government  in  France;  but 
I  had  no  certainty  of  this  fact  when,  dining  one  day  with 
the  Marquis  de  Puysieux,  I  found  there  the  speech  with 
which  the  King  of  England  had  just  opened  his  parliament. 
In  it  he  said :  "  With  a  sincere  desire  to  secure  my  people 
from  the  evils  of  war  and  to  prevent,  in  the  midst  of  present 
troubles,  whatever  could  lead  to  a  general  war  in  Europe, 
I  have  been  ever  ready  to  accept  all  honourable  and  reason- 
able terms  of  agreement;  but  up  to  this  time  France  has 
proposed  none.  Consequently  I  have  limited  my  views  to 
preventing  that  power  from  making  further  usurpations  or 
maintaining  those  it  has  already  made;  to  letting  it  be 
known  distinctly  that  we  have  the  right  to  demand  satis- 
faction for  hostilities  committed  in  a  time  of  profound 
peace ;  and  to  bringing  to  nought  designs  which,  as  various 
appearances  and  many  preparations  give  reason  to  believe, 
are  now  being  formed  against  my  kingdom  and  my  domains." 

This  speech  left  no  uncertainty  as  to  the  intentions  of 
the  Britannic  Court,  and  it  was  plain  we  could  no  longer 
reasonably  expect  to  be  at  peace  with  that  power.  A 
means  presented  itself  to  my  mind  of  bringing  the  Council 


rl  Van  Lo>. 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  221 

at  Versailles  to  ask  an  explanation  from  the  English  min- 
istry. This  means  justified  at  the  same  time  the  king's 
inaction,  not  only  in  the  eyes  of  his  subjects  oppressed  by 
the  English,  but  also  in  the  face  of  all  Europe,  and  threw 
back  the  odium  of  the  war  on  the  Britannic  Court ;  in  short, 
it  furnished  the  king  with  a  means  of  revenge  both  useful 
and  honourable.  I  went  at  once  into  my  cabinet  where  I 
drew  up  a  first  memorial  (which  will  be  found  among  my 
papers). 

Before  speaking  to  the  king  of  my  great  project,  I  wanted 
to  make  sure  that  means  could  be  found  to  execute  it.  I 
went  to  see  M.  Paris-Duverney,  intendant-general  of  military 
subsistence,  a  man  of  genius  and  resources,  who  has  ideas 
in  his  mind  and  loftiness  in  his  soul.  I  read  him  my 
memorial ;  he  seized  at  once  and  admirably  the  full  extent 
of  the  plan,  and  the  political  and  military  bearings  of 
the  double  project  it  presented.  M.  Duverney  assured  me 
that  the  subsistence  side  of  the  affair  could  be  ready  in 
three  weeks,  and  that  his  brother,  M.  Paris-Montmartel 
would  furnish  the  necessary  money.  We  went  together  to 
see  the  latter,  who  applauded  no  less  than  his  brother  the 
contents  of  my  memorial ;  he  promised  that  the  money 
should  not  be  wanting  as  soon  as  the  king  had  given  his 
orders.  M.  Montmartel  has  enriched  himself  in  serving  the 
king ;  but  it  must  be  said  that  his  fortune  and  his  credit 
have  both  been  useful  to  the  State  on  several  important 
occasions. 

We  agreed,  all  three,  that  my  memorial  should  be  com- 
municated on  the  following  day  to  his  Majesty.  In  the 
interval,  M.  Duverney  sent  me  a  very  clear  and  strong 
statement  of  the  means  to  employ  to  make  sure  of  the 
supplies  and  munitions  necessary  to  the  success  of  the 
enterprise.  After  having  taken  these  precautions  I  went 


222  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

back  to  Versailles,  and  gave  my  memorial  to  the  king, 
assuring  him  that  if  he  adopted  my  project,  neither  the 
money  nor  the  other  means  would  be  lacking. 

The  king  has  a  naturally  sound  mind.  He  liked  the  plan ; 
but  he  wished  before  adopting  it  to  have  it  approved  by 
the  Council,  and,  in  consequence,  he  ordered  a  committee, 
at  which  all  the  ministers  should  be  present. 

My  project  consisted  in  making  to  the  Court  of  London  a 
Kequisition,  by  which  the  king  declared  that,  to  avoid  the 
evils  of  war,  he  would  willingly  forget  the  insult  offered  to 
his  flag  by  the  irregular  capture  of  the  "  Alcide,"  and  the 
"  Lys,"  and  by  the  still  less  excusable  carrying  off  of  the 
merchant-vessels  of  his  subjects,  on  condition  that  England 
would  restore  at  once  and  without  reserve  the  said  vessels ; 
also  that  if  his  Britannic  Majesty  accepted  a  proposition  so 
equitable,  his  Majesty  was  ready  to  renew  the  negotiation, 
now  interrupted,  for  the  settlement  of  the  North  American 
boundaries ;  but  that  if,  on  the  contrary,  the  King  of  England 
refused  so  just  and  amicable  an  overture,  his  Majesty  would 
regard  that  refusal  as  an  open  declaration  of  war. 

This  Eequisition  [published  in  the  "  Gazette  de  France," 
1756]  was  to  be  accompanied  by  a  letter  from  the  minister 
of  Foreign  Affairs,  to  Mr.  Fox,  and  sent  through  the  king's 
ambassador  at  the  Hague  to  Mr.  York,  Britannic  minister  in 
Holland,  for  transmission  to  his  Court;  the  answer  to  be 
returned  to  our  ambassador.  At  the  same  time  copies  of 
the  Eequisition  were  to  be  sent  to  all  the  Courts  of  Europe, 
to  let  them  see  the  moderation  and  equity  of  the  king. 
But  as  this  step  towards  the  Court  of  London  was  threaten- 
ing in  case  of  a  refusal,  the  threat  was  not  to  be  lost  in  air, 
and  I  supported  it  by  a  detailed  plan  for  attacking  Minorca. 
The  Kequisition  was  but  the  preamble  of  that  means  of 
vengeance,  and  the  two  things  were  so  bound  together  that 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  223 

my  plan  involved  renouncing  the  Kequisition,  if  the  attack 
on  Minorca  was  not  practicable.  In  case  the  attack  on 
Minorca  was  determined  on,  I  wanted  that  all  arrange- 
ments to  begin  that  enterprise  should  be  completed  by  the 
time  the  answer  came  from  London ;  so  that  there  might  be 
no  interval  between  the  refusal  of  England  and  the  attack 
on  the  island. 

All  the  king's  Council,  with  the  exception  of  M.  de 
Machault,  praised  this  project  very  much,  as  a  whole  and 
in  parts.  As  for  the  Keeper  of  Seals  [M.  de  Machault],  he 
contented  himself  by  saying  coldly :  "  That  Eequisition  will 
give  us  war."  M.  de  Se*chelles,  who  rolled  his  r's,  said, 
stamping  his  foot,  "  Eh !  jarni,  monsieur,  is  n't  it  war  al- 
ready ? "  M.  de  Machault  knew  that  well  enough,  but  he 
saw  that  the  attack  on  Minorca  would  give  M.  d'Argenson 
a  role  to  play,  and  that  displeased  him.  Moreover,  M.  de 
Machault  was  in  the  confidence  of  an  underhand  negotiation, 
with  which  the  Court  of  London  had  been  for  some  time 
amusing  us ;  a  banker  in  Paris  being  the  negotiator.  When 
the  king  ordered  M.  Eouill^  to  disclose  to  me  that  mystery, 
I  was  immensely  surprised  that  the  ministers  should  have 
given  attention  to  so  clumsy  a  trick.  I  soon  made  the 
king  feel  the  indecency,  danger,  and  uselessness  of  such  a 
negotiation. 

Though  the  king's  Council  adopted  my  project,  it  was  not 
without  much  difficulty  and  effort  that  I  succeeded  in  getting 
it  executed.  I  wrote  many  memorials  on  the  subject,  to 
develop  the  plan  and  facilitate  its  execution.  I  asked  that 
the  king  should  appoint  a  general  of  reputation  to  command 
on  our  ocean  coasts,  and  another  on  the  coasts  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. Forty  thousand  men  were  to  be  marched  to  the 
former  to  threaten  England  with  the  phantom  of  an  embarka- 
tion on  the  ocean  side.  All  the  success  of  the  enterprise 


224  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHA*.  vi. 

against  Minorca  depended  on  the  belief  that  England  might 
give  to  these  demonstrations;  which  in  my  plan  were  not 
altogether  chimerical ;  for  if  the  English  were  too  unready  to 
take  their  forces  to  the  Mediterranean,  nothing  need  prevent 
us  from  attacking  the  islands  of  Jersey  and  Guernsey. 

While  this  feint  was  preparing  at  the  West,  everything  was 
to  be  made  ready  at  the  South,  in  the  harbours  of  Toulon  and 
Marseille,  for  the  transportation  of  thirty-five  battalions, 
convoyed  by  a  squadron  sufficient  to  protect  them.  These 
double  preparatives,  by  dividing  the  attention  of  England, 
set  a  trap  for  her  which  it  would  be  hard  to  avoid,  especially 
if  the  secret  of  the  Minorca  expedition  were  well  kept.  As  it 
was,  England  fell  into  it,  and  it  was  only  in  consequence  of 
our  delays  that  the  squadron  of  Admiral  Byng  arrived  to  the 
succour  of  Fort  Saint-Philip,  though  even  then  long  after  the 
disembarkation  of  our  troops. 

It  must  be  allowed  that  the  English  could  scarcely  regard 
as  serious  an  expedition  about  which  so  much  public  talk  was 
made.  This  was  the  first  time  it  was  ever  useful  for  a 
government  not  to  know  how  to  keep  its  secrets.  Another 
incredible  fact  is  that  the  king  had  no  plan  or  map  of  the 
actual  condition  of  Fort  Saint-Philip ;  and  they  proceeded  to 
attack  that  place  on  a  plan  which  M.  Massones,  the  Spanish 
ambassador,  gave  me,  which  he  thought  very  good  ;  but  which 
was  only  that  of  the  old  fortress  hi  the  days  when  the 
Spaniards  possessed  it.  We  should  never  have  undertaken 
the  siege  of  that  fortress  had  we  known  to  what  a  formidable 
condition  the  English  had  brought  it ;  therefore  its  capture 
may  be  regarded  as  a  species  of  miracle.  I  remember  that 
when  M.  Duverney  read  me  the  lists  of  the  utensils  and 
implements  collected  for  the  siege  of  Port-Mahon,  I  said 
to  him:  "You  have  forgotten  the  most  essential  thing; 
add  scaling-ladders."  This  reflection  seems  prophetic,  and 


1755-1756]  CAKDlNAL  DE  BERNIS.  225 

did  not  prove  useless,  for  they  took  Fort  Saint-Philip  by 
assault. 

After  many  committee-meetings,  memorials  that  I  took  to 
them,  and  intrigues  that  thwarted  my  project,  it  was  decided 
to  send  the  king's  Kequisition  to  the  Court  of  London.  I 
asked  the  minister  of  the  navy  whether  the  transports  and 
the  squadron  would  be  ready  by  the  time  the  answer  of  the 
King  of  England  arrived,  and  whether,  in  case  of  refusal,  we 
could  act  immediately,  —  a  condition  necessary  for  success, 
inasmuch  as  the  enterprise  against  Minorca  was  reasonable 
only  so  long  as  it  was  possible  to  seize  the  island  before  it 
could  be  succoured.  He  assured  me  that  all  would  be  ready 
in  a  month.  It  must  be  told  that,  although  on  the  part  of  the 
minister  of  war,  all  was  ready  at  the  time  agreed  upon,  it  was 
not  so  in  the  Mediterranean  ports ;  but  M.  d'Argenson  desired 
the  enterprise,  and  M.  de  Machault  did  not  [M.  de  Machault 
was  Keeper  of  the  Seals  and  minister  of  the  navy  also]. 

As  soon  as  the  king's  Kequisition  had  started,  I  urged  the 
appointment  of  the  generals  who  were  to  command  on  the 
coasts  of  the  ocean  and  the  Mediteranean.  The  Mare'chal 
de  Belleisle  was  chosen  for  the  Western  coast,  and  I  contrib- 
uted much  to  the  selection  of  Mare'chal  de  Eichelieu  for  that 
of  the  South.  In  consequence  of  these  appointments  great 
movements  of  troops  took  place,  and  many  transports  were 
collected  in  the  ocean  ports  ;  but  the  naval  preparations  in  the 
Mediterranean  for  the  attack  on  Minorca  were  very  slow  and 
few  in  number.  Part  of  the  ministry  flattered  themselves 
that  England  would  seize  the  means  offered  her  by  the  king 
for  peace;  and,  in  fact,  if  the  Court  of  London  had  not 
resolved  on  war  it  would  not  have  rejected  so  reasonable  an 
offer  of  conciliation.  But  its  course  was  already  determined, 
and  it  was  counting  on  an  enterprise,  then  unknown,  which 
was  to  make  us  lose  Canada.  In  France,  on  the  contrary, 

VOL.   I.  —  15 


226  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

the  English  were  thought  to  be  pacific  because  we  were  so 
ourselves. 

A  courier  was  sent  to  Marechal  de  Belleisle  who  was 
then  at  Bisi  bidding  adieu  to  the  Due  de  Nivernais,  who  was 
starting  for  Berlin.  The  mare'chal  came  at  once  to  Court, 
being  wholly  ignorant  of  the  king's  Kequisition  and  the 
project  of  attacking  Minorca.  The  king  ordered  me  to  in- 
form him  of  this  affair.  M.  de  Belleisle  was  not  then  in 
the  Council,  but  he  entered  it  shortly  after  in  place  of 
Mare'chal  de  Noailles.  After  the  taking  of  Minorca  Mare- 
chal de  Belleisle  allowed  his  friends  to  say  that  he  was  the 
author  of  the  plan  of  that  expedition ;  M.  de  Machault,  by  a 
few  cold  words,  sustained  that  idea,  and  quite  recently  the 
ill-informed  author  of  the  "  Political  Testament  of  the  Mare'- 
chal de  Belleisle  "  has  attributed  to  him  all  that  merit.  I 
do  not  deny  that  others  besides  myself  may  have  had  the 
idea  of  attacking  Minorca,  but  the  plan  that  was  followed 
for  the  taking  of  that  island  belongs  to  me  alone. 

As  long  as  the  affair  seemed  a  doubtful  one,  I  was  blamed 
for  being  its  instigator;  when  it  succeeded,  my  credit  for 
the  plan  was  disputed.  When  the  answer  from  England 
arrived,  and  her  refusal  made  war  certain,  I  was  not,  as  the 
saying  is,  "  fit  to  throw  to  the  dogs ; "  and  the  ministers 
reproached  one  another  for  having  listened  to  the  counsel  of 
a  young  man;  even  Mme.  de  Pompadour  thought  herself 
obliged  to  console  me  for  the  little  success  of  my  memorial.  I 
told  her  that  I  did  not  need  consolation ;  that  I  had  all  along 
expected  the  refusal  of  England,  because  I  had  better  known 
her  intentions.  I  assured  Mme.  de  Pompadour  that  she 
would  soon  see  the  good  effect  produced  in  all  the  Courts  of 
Europe  by  the  king's  Eequisition ;  that  it  was  only  neces- 
sary that  she  should  urge  the  departure  of  the  troops  for 
the  attack  on  Minorca,  and  that  she  must  not  worry 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  227 

herself    at  what  they  might  think  at  Versailles  of  my 
projects. 

The  result  was  that  Europe  applauded  the  moderation  of 
the  king ;  and  if  all  wishes  were  not  in  our  favour,  at  any 
rate  we  had  all  the  votes,  and  the  blame  fell  on  England 
only.  The  king's  Council  then  began  to  do  justice  to  my 
views.  But  the  minister  of  the  navy  would  not  hasten  his 
preparations;  the  secret  of  the  expedition  got  wind;  the 
affair  was  actually  talked  of  three  months  before  it  was 
undertaken.  M.  de  Eichelieu  spit  fire  and  flame  ;  he  feared, 
with  good  reason,  that  the  English  would  forestall  him.  I 
made  him  resolve  to  start  for  Marseille,  telling  him  that  his 
presence  could  alone  hasten  the  preparations. 

In  point  of  fact,  his  activity  triumphed  over  the  slowness 
of  the  navy,  the  indiscretions  of  the  government,  and  the 
negligence  of  the  English.  The  rest  is  well  known.  Mare*- 
chal  de  Kichelieu,  after  the  successful  battle  of  M.  de  la 
Galissonni^re  against  the  English  fleet,  had  no  fear  that 
Port-Mahon  could  be  succoured  for  a  long  time ;  but  he  did 
not  advance  very  much  in  the  taking  of  Fort  Saint-Philip. 
I  have  already  said  that  if  we  had  known  the  strength  of 
that  fortress,  we  should  never  have  determined  to  attack  it. 
It  is  perhaps  the  first  time  in  our  history  that  the  ignorance 
of  a  ministry  has  been  useful  to  the  State.  Mare*chal  de 
Eichelieu,  rightly  judging  that  he  would  have  difficulty 
in  reducing  Fort  Saint-Philip  by  regular  approaches,  con- 
ceived the  bold  design  of  carrying  it  by  general  assault. 
This  undertaking,  almost  foolhardy,  succeeded  by  the  ex- 
traordinary valour  of  his  troops,  the  slackness  of  the  besieged, 
and  especially  by  the  inexperience  of  Lord  Blakeney,  to 
whom,  however,  the  English  nation  raised  a  statue  to  com- 
memorate his  fine  defence.1 

1  See  Appendix  I. 


MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

This  success  intoxicated  France,  disconcerted  the  Court 
of  London,  and  threw  it  into  consternation ;  we  made  pretty 
songs,  and  believed  that  in  future  it  would  be  as  easy  to 
conquer  the  English  as  it  now  was  to  laugh  at  them.  I 
ought  to  have  felt  more  nattered  than  others  by  this  victory, 
inasmuch  as  I  was  the  original  author  of  it,  but  I  saw  in 
this  advantage  only  a  certain  means  of  ending  the  war 
gloriously.  I  proposed  to  the  king's  Council,  he  being  then 
at  Compiegne,  to  address  a  second  Kequisition  to  the  Court 
of  London,  in  which  the  king  offered  peace  with  the  restitu- 
tion of  Minorca,  provided  England  returned  our  vessels, 
sailors,  and  merchandise,  and  freed  us  forever  from  the  stipu- 
lations of  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht  in  regard  to  Dunkerque. 

This  action  on  the  part  of  the  king  was  calculated  to 
cover  him  with  glory,  and  to  secure  peace.  It  seemed  to  me 
impossible  that  England  should  not  accept  these  pacific 
propositions;  the  expedition  of  General  Braddock  into 
Canada  had  failed;  the  British  ministry  was  harassed, 
divided,  dismayed.  By  this  means  the  maritime  war  was 
at  an  end,  and  it  was  more  than  likely  that  the  King  of 
Prussia,  seeing  us  freed  from  all  naval  embarrassments, 
would  not  risk  uniting  all  our  forces  against  him  by  attack- 
ing the  Courts  of  Saxony,  and  Vienna.  This  monarch  had 
sent  to  Minorca  Prince  Frederick  of  Wurtemberg,  who,  on 
his  return,  passed  through  Compiegne,  and  scandalized  us 
all  by  the  contemptuous  tone  in  which  he  spoke  of  our 
troops  and  our  generals.  Dunkerque,  freed  from  its  servi- 
tude, was  worth  far  more  to  us  than  Minorca ;  Louis  XV. 
would  have  had  the  advantage  of  wiping  out  the  shame  of 
Louis  XIV.'s  misfortunes ;  Europe  would  have  had  a  long 
peace ;  a  million  of  men  would  still  be  living ;  the  peoples 
would  not  have  been  exhausted;  in  a  word,  the  idea  was 
luminous. 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  229 

They  laughed  at  me.  When  I  proposed  it  the  ministers 
told  me  that  the  people  of  Paris  would  fling  mud  in  my  face  if 
it  knew  me  to  be  the  author  of  such  a  project  (as  if  the 
intoxication  of  a  light-minded  populace  should  rule  the 
Council  of  a  wise  king !).  In  a  word,  this  view  was  rejected 
with  a  species  of  derision.  At  the  present  moment,  when 
we  feel  all  its  merits,  it  is  shown  to  have  been  valuable ;  but 
when  men  are  at  the  head  of  a  great  State,  they  ought  to  be 
able  to  see  in  advance  the  true  point  to  lay  hold  of. 

The  foreign  ministers  were  informed  that  I  had  given 
this  salutary  advice;  and  they  congratulated  me  at  Com- 
piegne,  at  the  king's  lever. 

It  has  been  seen  that  I  led  the  Court  of  Vienna  to  a 
simple  treaty  of  alliance  and  guarantee.  That  work  ad- 
vanced far  during  the  months  of  December,  January,  and 
February;  by  the  beginning  of  March,  1756,  only  a  few 
difficulties  remained  to  smooth  away,  when  we  suddenly 
learned  that  the  King  of  Prussia  had  not  only  signed,  but 
ratified  a  convention  with  the  Court  of  London.  This  con- 
vention was  all  the  more  alarming  to  the  Court  of  Vienna, 
because  the  Low  Countries  were  not  included  in  the  species 
of  guarantee  conveyed  by  that  treaty,  so  that  those  Countries 
might  be  invaded  by  France,  or  attacked  by  England  and 
Prussia,  if  the  Court  of  Vienna  made  no  arrangement  with 
the  Court  of  Versailles,  or  that  of  London,  to  put  them  in 
safety.  The  empress,  in  truth,  could  not  remain  long  ex- 
posed to  this  double  danger.  On  the  other  hand,  the  king 
had  much  reason  to  complain  of  his  Prussian  Majesty,  his 
ally,  not  only  for  having  negotiated  secretly  with  our 
enemies,  and  for  ratifying  this  treaty  against  our  solicita- 
tions, but  especially  for  trying  to  deprive  the  king  of  a  right 
he  had  acquired  by  the  treaty  of  Westphalia,  that  of  coming 
to  the  assistance  of  the  princes  and  States  of  the  Empire 


230  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

when  oppressed :  a  unique  right,  which  France  and  Sweden 
had  bought  at  a  cost  of  much  blood  and  money,  and 
the  laborious  acquisition  of  which  immortalized  Cardinal  de 
Eichelieu,  who  conceived  the  project,  and  Cardinal  Mazarin 
who  had  the  happiness  and  the  ability  to  conclude  it. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  Court  of  Vienna  conceived 
the  hope  of  making  the  king  adopt  the  first  plan  proposed 
by  the  empress  in  1755.  The  king's  Council  was  of  opinion 
that  to  calm  the  anxieties  of  the  empress  and  gain  time,  it 
was  well  to  examine  and  discuss  that  first  plan,  the  bad  con- 
duct of  the  King  of  Prussia  towards  us  authorizing  his  Majesty 
to  do  so.  I  was  not  of  that  opinion ;  I  thought  it  wiser  and 
more  decent  to  make  a  treaty  of  neutrality,  or  one  of  alliance 
purely  defensive,  than  to  enter  upon  the  negotiation  of  a 
plan  which  the  Council  had  no  intention  of  carrying  out.  But 
my  voice  was  not  the  strongest,  for  it  was  the  only  one  on 
that  side ;  besides  which,  I  found  myself  in  opposition  to  the 
paternal  heart  of  the  king,  which  had  long  sought  means  to 
strengthen  the  uncertain  position  of  his  daughter  and  her 
husband,  the  Duke  of  Parma.  I  was  therefore  charged  to 
declare  to  M.  de  Staremberg  that  the  king  no  longer  refused 
to  treat  with  the  empress  on  her  original  plan  which  had 
previously  been  rejected. 

The  Court  of  Vienna,  having  compelled  us  to  make  this 
stride,  did  not  delay  proposing  to  us  an  arrangement  which 
seemed  all  the  more  reasonable  because,  without  changing 
our  system,  it  secured  us  reciprocally  from  war  with  each 
other.  M.  de  Staremberg  communicated  to  me  the  form  of  a 
treaty,  or  convention  of  neutrality,  on  which  the  Austrian 
Court  insisted  strongly,  in  order  to  remove  from  its  mind  all 
uneasiness  as  to  the  Low  Countries.  Will  it  be  believed  that 
this  proposition  was  unanimously  rejected  by  the  king's 
Council  ?  That  very  Council  which  did  not  hesitate  to  make 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  231 

far  more  serious  engagements  with  the  empress  refused  to 
make  a  simple  agreement  of  neutrality  ! 

Under  these  circumstances  I  fell  ill ;  I  was  bled  several 
times,  —  the  last  time  in  the  foot,  when  I  was  wounded  in 
the  periosteum.  Though  ill  and  crippled,  my  work  did  not 
diminish.  To  sufferings  of  the  body  were  added  most 
grievous  distresses  of  a  heart  capable  of  friendship.  A  re- 
spected and  ultimate  friend  of  mine  [the  Comtesse  de  Eohan] 
was  dying  in  Paris,  and  at  the  same  time  I  lost  a  niece  whom 
I  loved  much.  I  had  myself  carried  to  their  houses  and 
received  their  last  farewells.  That  sight,  and  their  deaths, 
which  followed  immediately,  renewed  my  illness  to  the  point 
of  making  it  very  serious.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  all  this 
anguish  that  the  courier  despatched  to  Vienna  with  our  re- 
fusal of  the  treaty  of  neutrality  returned  to  Paris. 

I  shall  remember  all  my  life  on  Good  Friday  how  on  that 
day  M.  de  Staremberg  came  to  tell  me  the  nature  of  the 
despatches  he  had  received.  I  was  extremely  weak,  I  had 
been  bled  four  times ;  while  in  that  state  the  imperial 
minister  declared  to  me  that  his  Court,  justly  alarmed  at  our 
refusal,  demanded  as  a  guarantee  of  the  king's  intentions,  not 
only  that  the  agreement  of  neutrality  be  signed,  but  also  a 
treaty  of  defensive  alliance ;  in  default  of  which  the  empress, 
exposed  equally  to  Prussia  and  to  England,  would  be  obliged, 
for  her  own  safety,  to  renew  her  treaties  with  her  former 
allies. 

I  have  said  already  that  I  was  not  permitted  to  employ  a 
secretary  for  the  work  that  related  to  the  affairs  of  Vienna. 
I  therefore  wrote  for  three  hours  under  dictation  of  M.  de 
Staremberg.  That  labour  done,  I  began  another,  lasting  four 
hours,  to  render  account  to  the  king  of  the  bad  effect  pro- 
duced in  Vienna  by  the  refusal  of  neutrality ;  also  to  M. 
Kouill^  and  the  other  members  of  the  committee,  who  were 


232  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

dispersed  in  their  country-houses  for  the  Easter  holidays. 
This  negotiation  lasted  a  week,  —  without  my  illness,  which 
gave  me  fever,  relaxing  for  a  moment.  I  will  say  here,  in 
passing,  that  I  have  always  had  more  difficulty  in  negotiating 
with  my  own  Court  than  with  foreign  Courts.  I  am  sur- 
prised that  at  this  crisis  my  health  sufficed  for  what  I  did. 

I  succeeded,  by  these  writings,  in  calming  the  minds  of  the 
ministers  and  in  making  them  understand  that  there  was  no 
more  danger  in  signing  an  agreement  of  neutrality  and  a 
treaty  of  purely  defensive  alliance  with  the  empress  than 
there  had  been  in  signing  a  treaty  of  guarantee  and  alliance 
which  they  had  resolved  to  do  a  month  earlier.  I  was  there- 
fore ordered  to  declare  to  M.  de  Staremberg  that  in  the  very 
first  days  of  my  convalescence  the  last  proposals  of  the  em- 
press would  be  definitely  determined  on  in  a  meeting  at  which 
the  whole  Council  would  assemble. 

0  my  nephews  !  for  whom  alone  I  write  these  Memoirs, 
keep  yourselves,  so  far  as  it  depends  on  you,  from  entering 
upon  great  public  affairs  !  Let  the  knowledge  of  all  that  my 
heart  and  mind  have  suffered  deter  you ;  but  if  your  duty 
calls  you  there,  learn  of  me  with  what  uprightness,  prudence, 
courage  you  must  conduct  yourselves. 

The  Treaty  of  Versailles  was  signed  May  1, 1756.1  I  shall 
say  nothing  about  it ;  it  is  known  to  all  the  world.  Both 
sides  agreed  that  it  should  not  be  made  public  until  the  two 
crowns  had  informed  the  Court  of  Madrid  of  its  existence. 

The  king  was  never  so  pleased  as  at  the  moment  when  I 
went  to  tell  him  that  M.  Eouille'  and  I,  as  his  ministers 
plenipotentiary,  had  signed  the  treaty  of  eternal  alliance 
between  himself  and  the  empress;  his  Majesty  owned  to 
me  that  this  was  the  completion  of  the  work  he  had  most 
desired  to  perform. 

1  See  Appendix  II. 


1755-1756]  CAKDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  233 

The  publication  of  the  treaty  was  not  made  until  we  had 
given  notice  of  it  to  the  Courts  of  Madrid  and  Berlin,  and 
after  the  exchange  of  ratifications.  It  is  to  be  remarked 
that  the  secret  of  so  long  a  negotiation  had  not  transpired 
in  any  way,  despite  the  vigilance  and  curiosity  of  the  foreign 
ministers.  At  first  the  treaty  made  a  most  favourable  im- 
pression upon  France ;  it  was  regarded  as  a  masterpiece  of 
prudence  and  policy ;  the  nation  desired  peace,  and  it  was 
thought  that  this  alliance  gave  it  and  would  maintain  it. 
The  applause  it  gained  tempted  M.  Rouill^;  his  friends 
and  his  family  declared  him  to  be  the  author  of  it.  But 
when  the  King  of  Prussia  invaded  Saxony,  and  war  became 
certain,  they  returned  the  treaty  to  me  in  full,  and  no  mem- 
ber of  the  Council  would  admit  having  had  a  part  in  it. 

The  foreign  Courts,  for  the  most  part,  looked  with  jealousy 
and  fear  on  this  union  of  the  two  most  powerful  Houses  in 
Europe.  The  King  of  Prussia,  to  whom  the  king  communi- 
cated the  treaty,  did  not  seem  vexed  by  it.  That  dissimu- 
lation failed  to  reassure  me  as  to  the  future.  His  minister, 
M.  de  Knyphausen,  congratulated  me  with  much  politeness. 
The  Court  of  Turin  and  all  Italy  became  uneasy  and 
alarmed;  Germany  shared  those  feelings;  as  for  England, 
she  did  not  conceal  her  vexation,  and  qualified  the  alliance 
as  monstrous  and  unnatural.  At  Versailles,  they  regarded 
the  affair  as  strengthening  Mme.  de  Pompadour's  influence 
and  elevating  me.  From  that  time,  our  enemies  set  to  work 
to  break  up  our  union,  in  which  they  succeeded  eighteen 
months  later. 

I  own  that,  disgusted  by  the  jealousies  of  the  ministry 
and  by  M.  EouilM's  obstinacy  in  concealing  from  me  not 
only  what  was  happening  in  the  Courts  of  Europe,  but  even 
the  instructions  which  he  gave  to  the  ministers  of  the  king 
in  Germany,  which  conformed  so  little  to  the  spirit  and 


234  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

letter  of  the  Treaty  of  Versailles  that  M.  de  Staremberg 
was  continually  bringing  me,  and  not  without  reason,  most 
serious  complaints,  —  I  own,  I  say,  that  all  these  impediments 
and  inconsistencies  made  me  earnestly  desire  that  the  king 
would  let  me  go  and  exercise  my  functions  as  ambassador 
in  Madrid.  I  even  proposed  to  leave  in  the  hands  of  the 
king  a  memorial  in  which  I  should  state  the  principles  by 
which  to  direct  the  conduct  of  the  new  plenipotentiary 
whom  the  king  would  select  to  carry  on  this  important 
affair.  But  his  Majesty  thought  that  no  one  was  as  capable 
as  I  to  conduct  a  negotiation  which  I  had  had  in  hand  for 
over  a  year,  and  of  which  I  knew  all  the  advantages,  incon- 
veniences, and  dangers.  His  Majesty  therefore  opposed  my 
departure  for  Spain  and  thought  that  by  putting  me  into 
the  Council  he  should  remedy  the  provoking  practices  of 
M.  Kouill4,  who  could  not  then  keep  from  me  a  knowledge 
of  what  was  happening  in  the  cabinets  of  Europe  nor  the 
instructions  he  was  giving  to  the  king's  ministers  at  foreign 
Courts.  His  Majesty  decided,  therefore,  that  I  was  to  take 
my  seat  at  the  next  Council  as  minister  of  State. 

Mme.  de  Pompadour,  in  speaking  to  me  of  this  intention 
of  the  king,  told  me  that  he  did  not  wish  to  inform  the 
ministers  of  his  determination,  but  that  his  Majesty  had 
permitted  her  to  tell  M.  de  Machault,  of  whom  she  was 
sure.  I  applauded  the  confidence  she  had  in  her  friend, 
but  I  assured  her  that  that  confidence  would  close  the  door 
of  the  Council  against  me,  redouble  M.  Kouille*'s  jealousy, 
and  rouse  that  of  the  other  ministers.  The  marquise  would 
not  believe  it,  declaring  that  M.  de  Machault  had  lately 
said  to  her  that  after  the  death  of  M.  Kouille*,  which  seemed 
near  at  hand,  the  king  would  have  "a  great  minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs  in  me."  That  eulogy  did  not  make  me 
change  my  opinion ;  and  I  was  right,  for  as  soon  as  M.  de 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  235 

Machault  received  her  confidence  he  sent  M.  Kouille  to  the 
king  to  make  serious  remonstrances  and  touching  jeremiads. 
That  minister  represented  to  his  Majesty  that  he  himself 
had  removed  him  from  the  navy  department  to  that  of 
Foreign  Affairs ;  that  it  was  dishonouring  him  and  taking 
from  him  the  confidence  of  foreigners  to  make  me  a  minister 
of  State  in  consequence  of  the  Treaty  of  Versailles ;  that  all 
Europe  would  see  in  me  the  real  minister,  and  in  him  a 
figure-head;  that  if  he  had  lost  the  confidence  of  the  king 
he  asked  only  to  retire ;  and  finally,  that,  informed  as  I  was 
in  all  matters  relating  to  Spain  and  the  rest  of  Europe,  he 
could  not  find  at  this  important  crisis  any  one  capable  of 
replacing  me.  This  argument  did  not  convince  the  king, 
but  it  embarrassed  him.  He  reassured  M.  Kouille  as  to  his 
fears  and  spoke  to  him  with  such  kindness  that  the  little 
man  thought  himself  justified  in  treating  me  haughtily,  and 
accusing  me  to  my  face  of  an  unreasonable  ambition  which 
would  never  be  gratified.  I  was  master  of  myself ;  my  life 
at  Court  had  long  trained  me  to  patience;  I  answered, 
judiciously  and  firmly,  that  I  had  never  thought  of  the 
place  of  minister  of  State;  that  I  did  not  mind  its  being 
taken  from  me  provided  the  service  of  the  king  and  my  own 
reputation  did  not  suffer  in  consequence. 

M.  de  Machault,  the  author  of  this  mischief,  proposed 
to  me,  in  order  to  conciliate  matters,  that  the  Marquis 
d'Aubeterre,  then  minister  at  Vienna,  should  be  sent  to 
Spain,  and  that  I  should  go,  clothed  with  ambassadorial 
dignities  to  the  Imperial  Court.  This  snare  was  very 
shrewd ;  if  I  refused  so  important  an  embassy  it  was  easy 
to  present  me  to  the  king's  mind  as  an  ambitious  man, 
whose  project  was  to  govern  the  Court ;  consequently  I  did 
not  hesitate  one  moment  in  accepting  M.  de  Machault's 
proposition,  and  I  asked  him  to  inform  Mme.  de  Pompadour 


236  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

at  once  of  my  acceptance.  The  marquise,  who  began  from 
that  moment  to  distrust  M.  de  Machault's  sincerity,  wished 
to  refuse  this  expedient;  but  I  made  her  comprehend  the 
necessity  of  giving  in  to  it,  in  order  to  put  the  king  at  his 
ease  and  to  disarm  by  this  moderation  the  jealousy  of  the 
minister,  at  any  rate,  for  a  while.  At  the  same  time  I 
wrote  the  king  a  letter,  in  which  I  made  him  see  the  purity 
of  my  intentions,  the  simple  character  of  my  views,  and 
the  limit  of  my  ambition.  I  made  him  feel  that  the  idea 
of  my  entering  the  Council  came  from  himself,  and  that, 
provided  his  Majesty  put  me  in  a  position  where  I  could 
be  better  informed  and  less  thwarted  than  I  now  was, 
I  asked  no  more.  The  king  was  satisfied  with  my  senti- 
ments and  my  conduct,  but  he  had  much  difficulty  in 
renouncing  his  intention  to  put  me  in  the  Council ;  in  fact, 
it  was  more  than  three  weeks  before  he  could  resolve  to 
appoint  me  to  the  embassy  of  Vienna. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  midst  of  all  these  intrigues,  our  ulterior 
negotiations  with  Vienna  advanced  but  slowly  and  with 
many  difficulties.  I  at  last  forced  the  imperial  minister  to 
consent  that  our  offensive  action  should  be  subordinate  to 
the  one  case  of  the  King  of  Prussia  being  the  first  to  violate 
the  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle.  This  will  show  how  just  and 
fair  the  king  was  towards  his  Prussian  Majesty,  and  how 
destitute  of  all  foundation  were  the  pretexts  with  which  the 
Berlin  Court  tried  to  colour  its  unjust  invasions. 

This  first  difficulty  settled,  there  remained  a  host  of  others 
to  smooth  down,  as  much  in  regard  to  the  tranquillity  of 
Italy  as  to  that  of  the  Low  Countries,  and  to  the  objects 
I  had  always  proposed  to  myself  in  the  negotiations  with 
the  Court  of  Vienna,  namely :  uprooting  all  germs  of  war 
between  that  Court  and  ours  in  the  present  and  for  the 
future ;  detaching  from  England  her  principal  allies ;  increas- 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  237 

ing  in  France  harbours,  fortresses,  resources,  and,  finally, 
maritime  advantages  and  positions  able  to  render  uneasy, 
and  even  to  weaken,  the  commerce  and  navy  of  England.  I 
would  that  I  were  permitted  to  explain  this  more  clearly ;  it 
would  then  be  seen  that  no  minister  of  France  has  ever  had 
sounder  views,  or  suggested  measures  more  fitted  to  secure 
the  tranquillity  of  Europe,  to  weaken  England,  and  procure 
for  France  solid  resources  against  an  inimical  power  now 
grown  formidable. 

We  should,  at  the  same  time,  reflect  on  the  striking  singu- 
larity offered  by  the  union  of  two  Courts  enemies  for  three 
centuries  and  now  allied  for  the  last  three  months;  the 
reciprocal  hatreds,  the  great  distrusts  were  smothered,  but 
suspicions  remained  which  private  interests  and  contending 
political  principles  nourished  on  both  sides.  This  delicate 
and  embarrassing  situation  for  the  negotiators  required  on 
their  part  great  prudence,  patience,  and  cleverness:  these 
qualities  alone  would  not  have  sufficed  without  respective 
sincerity ;  it  must  be  said  that  both  Courts  put  much  into 
their  manner  of  negotiating  with  each  other. 

During  the  course  of  these  thorny  discussions,  we  heard 
from  all  sides  that  the  King  of  Prussia  was  assembling  his 
forces,  preparing  magazines,  and  mounting  his  artillery. 
The  king's  Council,  in  defiance  of  M.  d'Argenson,  per- 
sisted in  regarding  these  offensive  demonstrations  as  vain 
threats  on  the  part  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  who  was  seeking 
to  make  himself  of  importance,  they  said,  and  show  Europe 
that  the  union  of  the  Courts  of  Versailles  and  Vienna 
inspired  him  with  no  fear. 

As  for  me,  who,  six  months  earlier,  had  said  to  the  king's 
Council  that  the  publication  of  the  Treaty  of  Versailles 
would  determine  the  King  of  Prussia  to  attack  Saxony  and 
Bohemia  before  the  Courts  of  Vienna  and  Dresden  could 


238  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OP  [CHAP.  vi. 

take  precautions  to  prevent  it,  I  felt  the  gravest  anxiety  for 
the  fate  of  Saxony  and  Bohemia.  The  empress  had  only 
from  twenty-five  to  twenty-six  thousand  men  ready  to  be 
called  into  the  field;  the  Electorate  of  Saxony  only  eighteen 
thousand ;  the  Court  of  Dresden  floated  between  misplaced 
confidence  and  helpless  anxiety. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  the  King  of  Prussia 
presented  a  singular  memorial  to  the  Court  of  Vienna,  in 
which  he  asked  the  empress  to  declare  to  him  formally  that 
she  would  not  think  of  attacking  him  for  two  years ;  and  he 
went  on  to  say  that  in  default  of  that  express  declaration  he 
should  be  under  the  necessity  of  forestalling  his  enemies 
and  dispersing  the  storm  which  threatened  him.  This  pro- 
posal was,  it  must  be  allowed,  as  extraordinary  as  it  was 
insulting.  It  was  converting  the  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle, 
guaranteed  by  all  the  European  powers,  into  a  two  years' 
truce.  Thus  the  Court  of  Vienna  was  very  excusable  for 
answering  as  it  did;  but  it  had  only  twenty  thousand  men 
assembled  in  camp  at  Kolin,  whereas  the  King  of  Prussia 
had  a  hundred  thousand  under  arms.  It  would  certainly 
have  been  wiser,  while  calling  the  attention  of  the  Court  of 
Berlin  to  the  indecency  and  singularity  of  its  proposal,  to 
have  given  the  king  the  assurance  he  demanded;  such  a 
course  would,  at  any  rate,  have  postponed  the  war,  given  the 
empress  time  to  assemble  her  forces,  sheltered  Saxony  from 
sudden  attack,  brought  the  other  Courts,  whom  we  desired 
to  unite  in  our  measures,  to  an  explanation,  and  given  our- 
selves time  to  make  military  and  financial  preparations. 
The  Court  of  Vienna  hastened  to  reply  to  the  King  of 
Prussia,  and  did  not  communicate  to  us  its  answer  until 
it  was  sent. 

This  precipitation  filled  me  with  distress.     I  saw  that  the 
theatre  of  war  was  thrown  open  before  the  actors  were  pre- 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BEENIS.  239 

pared  to  enter  upon  the  stage.  I  felt  the  confusion,  disorder, 
and,  possibly,  the  disasters  which  would  come  of  so  hasty  a 
step.  The  Court  of  Vienna  excused  itself  on  the  ground  of 
the  indecency  of  the  King  of  Prussia's  memorial,  on  its  out- 
raged dignity,  and  on  the  danger  of  giving  two  years  more 
to  its  enemy  to  prepare  for  war.  But  the  secret  motive  of 
this  haste  was  founded  on  a  greater  and  more  essential  in- 
terest ;  the  Court  of  Vienna  was  now  nearly  at  one  with  us 
on  all  the  fundamental  points;  it  therefore  hastened  to 
embark  the  affair  for  fear  lest  some  event,  some  circumstance 
might  prevent  us  from  openly  taking  its  side ;  it  considered 
that  it  would  never  have  a  finer  opportunity  to  reduce  the 
King  of  Prussia ;  that,  the  war  once  begun,  negotiations  would 
be  keener  and  more  prompt;  that  the  Court  of  Kussia 
(which  that  of  Vienna  had  long  been  sounding)  would  decide 
upon  its  course  more  readily  after  the  invasion  of  Saxony 
and  Bohemia ;  that  the  said  invasion  would  arm  the  Empire 
against  the  King  of  Prussia  and  determine  France  and 
Sweden  (in  their  capacity  as  guarantors  of  the  Peace  of 
Westphalia)  to  come  to  the  succour  of  the  oppressed  States ; 
and,  finally,  that  if  the  King  of  Prussia  had  successes  at  first, 
the  scene  would  change  through  the  union  of  the  forces  of 
so  many  powerful  monarchies. 

All  these  reflections  were  just,  and  results  proved  them 
so  in  a  great  measure ;  but  it  is  not  less  true  that  the  pre- 
cipitate haste  of  the  Court  of  Vienna  was  the  real  cause  of  the 
loss  of  Saxony  and  of  the  battle  of  Lowositz  (October  1, 
1756) ;  and  to  it  must  be  attributed  a  part  of  the  misfortunes 
of  the  whole  war,  especially  of  the  distress  into  which  we 
were  thrown  in  the  matter  of  finance.  I  do  not  hesitate, 
therefore,  to  assert  that  the  Court  of  Vienna  made,  by  this 
action,  a  capital  blunder ;  it  rushed  an  affair  which  might 
have  been  settled  by  time,  and  in  consequence  France,  Swe- 


240  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vl. 

den,  the  Empire,  and  the  Court  of  Vienna  were  hurried  into 
war  while  still  unprepared  for  it. 

I  shall  not  relate  here  the  manner  in  which  the  King  of 
Prussia  comported  himself  in  Saxony,  nor  the  conduct  of  the 
King  of  Poland ;  I  do  not  pretend  to  write  the  history  of 
the  war.1  If  military  maxims  excuse  the  King  of  Prussia  for 
having  besieged  the  latter  prince  in  Pirna  in  a  time  of  abso- 
lute peace,  and,  after  making  his  army  prisoners  of  war,  hav- 
ing incorporated  it  into  his  own;  if  politically  he  had  the 
right  to  force  the  cabinet  of  Dresden,  to  search  the  archives 
of  that  Court  for  knowledge  and  motives  that  might  justify 
his  invasion,  no  reason  whatever  can  excuse  the  treatment  to 
which  he  subjected  the  Queen  of  Poland  and  the  royal 
family. 

It  is  known  that  the  want  of  resolution  of  the  Saxon  army 
prevented  it  from  joining  the  Austrian  army,  of  which  Gen- 
eral Brown  had  led  a  portion  with  some  ability  into  the 
neighbourhood  of  Pirna,  and  that  this  general  lost  by  his  own 
fault  the  battle  of  Lowositz  when  the  King  of  Prussia  had  no 
longer  any  hope  of  winning  it. 

The  King  of  Prussia  may  be  blamed  for  the  invasion,  but 
not  for  the  occupation  of  Saxony :  in  the  first  case  he  com- 
mitted an  injustice ;  in  the  second  he  behaved  as  a  general 
and  an  able  prince,  hi  procuring  for  himself  advantages 
and  military  resources  without  which  he  would  infallibly 
have  succumbed ;  the  capitulation  of  Pirna  was  a  fine  model 
to  follow  for  that  of  Kloster-zeven.  In  war  all  is  justified 
by  success ;  besides  the  fact  that  the  beaten  always  pay  the 
forfeit,  the  temporizers  are  blamed  when  they  fail,  and  are 
often  despised  by  their  public  and  by  posterity.  It  is 

1  For  the  military  history  of  the  Seven  Years'  War,  viewed  from  the 
Austrian  side  by  one  who  fought  its  battles,  see  the  Memoirs  of  the  Prince 
de  Ligne,  in  the  present  Historical  Series.  —  TB. 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  241 

shameful  to  humanity  that  maxims  so  unjust  should  be  con- 
secrated by  the  history  of  all  ages. 

As  soon  as  the  King  of  Prussia  had  entered  Saxony,  the 
empress  claimed  from  us  the  twenty-four  thousand  men  stip- 
ulated for  by  the  Treaty  of  Versailles.  Orders  were  given 
to  put  that  body  in  motion.  I  was  of  opinion  that  we  ought 
to  send  our  German  troops  at  once  to  the  support  of  the  em- 
press ;  adding  to  them  only  two  French  regiments  of  four 
battalions  each,  which  could  be  replaced  by  two  others  in 
every  new  campaign ;  thus  we  should  gradually  train  to  war 
our  whole  French  infantry,  and  recruit  the  twenty-four  thou- 
sand men  from  the  Empire  without  making  a  drain  upon  our 
provinces.  My  advice  was  rejected.  M.  d'Argenson,  minis- 
ter of  war,  at  heart  an  enemy  to  the  new  system,  but  who 
sought  to  profit  by  it  to  enhance  his  department,  wished,  by 
employing  all  his  forces,  to  make  himself  necessary,  become 
firmer  in  his  post,  and  eclipse  his  enemy,  M.  de  Machault. 
He  represented  that  we  were  now  too  closely  in  accord  with 
the  Court  of  Vienna  to  keep  strictly  to  the  Treaty  of  Ver- 
sailles ;  that  the  season  was  too  advanced  for  our  twenty-four 
thousand  men  to  reach  Bohemia  in  time  (which  was  true); 
that  the  corps,  marching  at  this  season,  would  be  half  de- 
stroyed before  it  got  there,  and  could  only  be  fit  for  action 
much  later ;  that  our  German  contingent  would  give  a  less 
good  idea  of  France  than  our  national  troops ;  that  the  em- 
press desired  to  be  served  by  Frenchmen,  of  whom  she  knew 
the  value  (this  also  was  true,  and,  moreover,  she  well  knew 
that  a  corps  of  French  troops  would  be  better  kept  up  than 
one  of  foreign  troops) ;  in  short,  that  to  send  these  troops  now 
was  to  put  twenty-four  thousand  men  into  the  hands  of  the 
Court  of  Vienna  as  hostages,  and  make  our  ulterior  arrange- 
ments more  difficult. 

These  arguments  prevailed ;  besides  which,  the  king  ar- 

YOL.    I.  — 16 


242  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

dently  desired  that  the  great  plan  negotiated  with  the  Court 
of  Vienna  should  be  carried  out  in  its  entirety.  M.  de 
Machault,  who  had  been  eager  for  the  whole  scheme  of  the 
treaties  with  the  empress  so  long  as  he  believed  that  the 
King  of  Prussia  would  never  enter  upon  a  war,  now  began 
to  feel  differently ;  but  he  no  longer  had  any  support  in  the 
king's  Council.  The  Mare*chal  de  Noailles  and  M.  de  Se*- 
chelles  had  retired  from  it,  also  the  Marquis  de  Puysieux. 
They  were  replaced  by  the  Marechal  de  Belleisle,  great 
Prussian  at  heart,  but  won  over  by  M.  d'Argenson ;  the 
mare'chal,  knowing  well,  moreover,  that  a  continental  war 
would  bring  his  military  talents  and  experience  into  activity, 
was  opposed  to  the  temporizing  system  of  M.  de  Machault. 
Thus,  contrary  to  my  advice,  the  twenty-four  thousand  men 
did  not  march ;  and  I  was  charged  with  making  the  impe- 
rial minister  consider  this  delay  satisfactory  by  a  memorial 
which  held  out  hopes  of  still  greater  assistance  when  we  had 
agreed  on  certain  ulterior  objects.  The  Court  of  Vienna  lent 
itself  to  these  ideas,  and  the  negotiation  resumed  its  former 
activity. 

M.  de  Machault  still  hoped  to  avert  the  land  war  by 
demanding  sixty-six  millions  annually  for  the  navy  so  long 
as  the  war  should  last.  They  were  granted  to  him  as  if  the 
king  had  a  fairy  wand  for  the  creation  of  gold.  It  is  to  be 
remarked  that  the  most  costly  campaign  —  that  during  the 
ministry  of  M.  de  Seignelay,  when  France  had  nearly  two 
hundred  ships  of  war  and  frigates  —  had  cost  the  late  king, 
including  the  colonies,  only  twenty -eight  millions.  I  know 
that  costs  of  living  and  labour  have  increased ;  but  the  pay 
of  the  soldier  and  the  salary  of  naval  officers  remain  the 
same.  This  operation  completed,  no  ground  was  left  for 
this  shrewd  minister  (though  little  versed  in  great  affairs) 
to  make  reasonable  objection  to  a  land  war. 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  243 

The  misfortunes  of  the  King  of  Poland,  the  tears  of  his 
daughter  the  dauphine,  and  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Lowositz, 
contributed  not  a  little  to  decide  us.  The  king's  generosity, 
his  love  for  his  family,  the  ardour  always  felt  for  new 
allies,  joined  to  the  advantages  we  and  our  friends  expected 
to  derive  from  our  conventions  with  the  Court  of  Vienna, 
combined  to  make  us  take  the  resolution  of  entering  upon  a 
continental  war,  in  case  we  agreed  with  the  Court  of  Vienna 
as  to  ulterior  arrangements.  I  was  ordered  to  declare  to 
M.  de  Staremberg  that,  in  case  the  king  decided  to  act  with 
nearly  all  his  forces  and  those  of  his  allies,  the  Imperial 
minister  must  present  as  soon  as  possible  a  general  plan  of 
convention,  as  much  for  the  sake  of  his  own  Court  as  for  us 
and  our  allies,  —  a  plan  on  which  we  could,  within  a  short 
time,  reach  a  final  decision. 

For  the  rest,  I  may  say  it  is  demonstrable  that  the  ar- 
rangements taken  with  the  empress-queen  were  maturely 
reflected  upon,  discussed,  and  weighed  by  the  king  and  his 
Council ;  that  this  great  work,  for  which  I  was  held  respon- 
sible after  events,  was  the  work  of  the  king  and  his  min- 
istry ;  and  that  I  myself,  being  charged  as  I  was  with  all 
the  labour,  was  neither  relieved  nor  helped  nor  protected 
by  any  one;  that  I  was  constantly  refused  the  means  of 
informing  myself  of  what  was  happening  in  Europe;  and 
that  when,  January  2,  1757,  the  king  finally  determined  to 
make  me  enter  the  Council  of  State,  he  had  less  in  view 
to  reward  me  for  my  long  and  painful  labours  than  to  put 
me  in  the  way  of  being  better  informed  of  his  affairs,  in 
order  to  make  me  more  capable  of  supporting  them  against 
the  imperial  minister. 

Madame  Infanta  told  me  that  the  king  wrote  to  her  at 
this  time  a  letter  in  which  he  said  expressly  that  he 
could  have  desired  I  should  serve  him  a  few  more  years 


244  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vi. 

at  foreign  Courts  before  entering  the  Council,  but  that  cir- 
cumstances obliged  him  to  advance  that  period  in  order  that 
I  might  be  in  a  better  position  to  terminate  the  important 
affairs  with  which  I  was  now  charged. 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  the  month  of  December,  1756, 
that,  weary  of  the  eternal  jealousy  of  M.  Rouille*,  the  im- 
pertinences of  his  wife  and  his  family,  and  foreseeing  that 
a  machine  so  ill-mounted  would  never  be  solid,  I  determined 
to  leave  to  that  minister  the  direction  of  the  definite  ar- 
rangements. I  asked  seriously  to  be  sent  to  Vienna  to 
fulfil  the  functions  of  my  embassy.  M.  Rouille'  acquiesced 
with  joy ;  the  king  appeared  to  consent,  and  he  promised 
me  the  cordon  lieu  on  the  first  of  January;  but,  for  all 
that,  he  had  resolved  to  appoint  me  a  minister  of  State, 
from  the  same  views  and  with  the  same  reasons  as  before. 
I  was  not  informed  of  this  resolution  until  the  evening 
before  New  Year's  day.  Thus,  instead  of  being  commander 
of  the  Order  of  the  Saint-Esprit,  I  entered  the  king's  Council, 
January  2,  1757. 

The  Marshal  de  Richelieu,  who  was  serving  that  year  as 
first  gentleman  of  the  Bed-chamber,  said  to  me  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  before  the  king  ordered  him  to  call  me  to 
enter  the  Council:  "Why,  having  so  much  business  with 
the  king,  don't  you  ask  for  the  entrees  to  the  chamber  ? 
If  you  like,  I  will  make  the  proposal  to  the  king  for  you." 
I  answered,  laughing,  that  I  accepted  his  offer  willingly. 
He  was  much  astonished  a  moment  later  to  hear  the 
king  say  to  me,  "Abbd  de  Bernis,  take  your  seat  at  the 
Council." 

Mme.  de  Pompadour,  taught  by  experience,  was  careful 
this  time  not  to  impart  to  M.  de  Machault  my  coming 
ministry.  The  silence  she  kept  disconcerted  the  intrigues 
which  would  otherwise  not  have  failed  to  oppose  me. 


1755-1756]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  245 

Before  going  farther,  it  is  necessary  to  treat  separately  of 
what  gave  rise  to  a  lit  de  justice,  which  the  king  held  in  the 
month  of  December,  1756,  and  to  give  a  general  idea  of 
the  affairs  of  parliament,  by  an  historical  summary  of  what 
had  taken  place  there  during  the  last  twenty-five  years. 


246  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  TII. 


VII. 

Affairs  of  Parliament,  and  what  related  thereto  during  my  Ministry. 

1732-1758.  It  is  well  known  that  the  parliaments  of 
France  are  never  so  firm  in  their  principles,  nor  so  heated 
in  their  assemblies,  as  when  it  is  a  matter  of  their  inde- 
pendence of  our  kings  and  of  the  power  of  the  popes,  or 
when  they  have  to  debate  questions  which  touch  upon 
religion  and  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction;  and  that  their  zeal 
in  this  respect  flies  to  arms  at  the  slightest  encroachment 
of  the  Court  of  Kome.  The  latter  ought,  therefore,  to  take 
account  of  this  disposition,  and  regulate  its  conduct  by  it,  in 
all  that  relates  to  the  Church  of  France  and  our  liberties. 
The  French  clergy  also  ought  never  to  risk  what  may  rouse 
the  ardent  and  rather  suspicious  zeal  of  the  parliaments. 
The  Church  has  always  lost  in  this  conflict  of  jurisdiction ; 
the  public  has  need  of  the  parliaments  for  the  administra- 
tion of  justice ;  the  Court  has  need  of  them  for  the  registra- 
tion of  financial  edicts.  Thus  the  parliaments  will  always 
rise  above  any  attack  made  upon  their  legitimate  rights, 
just  as  they  will  always  succumb  when  they  attempt  to 
cross  their  prescribed  limits.  I  will  state  presently  the  prin- 
ciples that  should  be  followed  in  the  affairs  that  relate  to 
parliament,  and  the  methods  by  which  that  Assembly  can 
infallibly  be  restrained  within  the  limits  of  its  essential 
functions. 

Without  speaking  here  of  the  heat  with  which  King  Louis 
XIV.  was  made  to  act  in  order  to  obtain  from  the  Court  of 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  247 

Eome  the  bull  Unigenitus,  I  shall  remark  that  the  ministry 
of  Cardinal  de  Fleury  was  perpetually  troubled  by  the  mut- 
ual clashing  of  clergy  and  parliaments  in  relation  to  that 
same  bull  Unigenitus.  We  know  what  happened  in  1732. 
The  king  issued,  on  the  18th  of  August,  a  declaration  which 
forbade  the  parliaments  to  make  repeated  remonstrances, 
under  pain  of  disobedience;  it  allowed  the  grand-chamber 
alone  to  receive  appeals  against  abuses,  take  cognizance 
of  ecclesiastical  matters,  of  the  liberties  of  the  Gallican 
church,  of  the  maxims  of  the  kingdom ;  but  it  forbade  the 
grand-chamber  from  holding  any  deliberation  on  the  above 
matters  except  on  the  requirement  of  the  king's  lawyers,  or 
on  the  proposition  of  whoever  presided  over  the  said  grand- 
chamber  ;  it  deprived  also  the  chambers  of  inquests  and 
petitions  of  their  freedom  to  deliberate  on  any  public  mattei 
elsewhere  than  in  the  general  assembly  of  the  chambers ; 
and  it  forbade  parliament  to  cease  its  functions  without 
permission  of  the  king,  under  pain  of  disobedience  and 
deprivation  of  its  offices.  Parliament  refused  to  enregister 
the  declaration.  The  king  held  a  lit  de  justice  at  Versailles, 
September  1,  1732,  and  had  the  declaration  registered. 
Parliament,  on  its  return  to  Paris,  protested  against  the 
registration  and  insisted  on  the  recall  of  certain  of  its  exiled 
members.  The  king,  irritated,  exiled  one  hundred  and  thirty 
more  September  7.  But  Cardinal  de  Fleury,  who  was  pre- 
paring for  war,  and  who  felt  that  they  could  neither  destroy 
parliament  nor  supply  its  place,  and  that  the  kingdom  could 
not  long  do  without  the  administration  of  justice,  recalled 
the  exiled  members  without  any  condition,  and  the  king 
consented  that  the  effects  of  his  declaration  should  be 
suspended. 

We  see  in  what  happened  then  the  history  of  what  has 
happened  since ;  and  what  will  always  happen  when  the 


M8  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAF.  TIL 

Court  acts  without  a  plan,  without  preparation,  and  without 
principles  ;  it  weakens,  or  at  least  it  compromises  the  royal 
authority  by  acts  little  reflected  on  and  by  indecent  retreats. 

After  that  period,  Cardinal  de  Fleury  carefully  kept  him- 
self from  employing  such  violent  means,  and  as  the  idea  of 
the  king's  authority  is  graven  in  France  on  all  minds  and  all 
hearts,  that  authority  recovered  its  rights  as  soon  as  they 
ceased  to  expose  it  to  the  resistance  of  parliament.  In  fact, 
in  spite  of  the  nullification  of  the  king's  declaration  enregis- 
tered  in  1732  at  a  lit  de  justice,  the  king  seemed  more  master 
than  ever  of  his  parliament,  until  the  trouble  excited  by  the 
certificates  of  confession  [billets  de  confession]  which  the 
Archbishop  of  Paris,  M.  de  Beaumont,  thought  it  his  duty  to 
exact  at  deathbeds,  the  affair  of  the  Hospitals,  and  that  of 
the  Filles  Saint-Marie,  again  lighted  the  almost  extinct 
embers  of  discord  and  fanaticism. 

The  protection  which  the  king  unwisely  gave,  by  advice  of 
Comte  d'Argenson  and  the  Bishop  of  Mirepoix,  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Paris  in  these  matters  excited  the  greatest  fermen- 
tation in  the  parliaments,  was  the  cause  of  the  attempted 
assassination  of  the  king  by  Damiens,  January  5,  1757,  and 
has  ended  by  giving  to  the  enemies  of  the  bull  Unigenitus 
an  air  of  victory  and  triumph.  So  that  the  misguided  zeal 
of  a  few  bishops  made  that  bull  lose  by  degrees  a  part  of 
the  protection  which  the  late  king  Louis  XIV.  and  the 
reigning  king  granted  to  it. 

The  open  quarrel  between  Comte  d'Argenson  and  M.  de 
Machault  aided  much  in  the  anarchy  into  which  the  govern- 
ment fell  in  consequence  of  the  affairs  of  the  bull  The 
intrigues  of  those  two  ministers  set  in  opposition  the  clergy 
to  the  parliament  and  the  parliament  to  the  clergy ;  the 
direction  of  affairs  concerning  those  bodies  passed,  in  turn, 
from  one  to  the  other  of  the  two  ministers,  until  it  came  at 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  249 

last  into  the  hands  of  the  Prince  de  Conti,  who  set  himself  to 
win  parliament,  and  who,  by  his  private  work  with  the  king, 
obtained  day  by  day  more  respect  and  more  influence  in  that 
assembly. 

On  the  other  hand,  M.  de  Maupeou,  chief-president,  who 
joined  to  the  talent  of  eloquence  external  graces  of  intrigue 
and  cajolery,  led  his  parliament  at  the  pleasure  of  the  Court 
just  so  long  as  he  retained  the  hope  given  to  him  of  being 
made  Keeper  of  the  Seals ;  but  as  soon  as  he  perceived  that 
this  intention  was  changed,  and  that  M.  de  Machault  was  to 
have  that  important  post,  he  comprehended  that,  having 
nothing  more  to  expect  from  the  Court,  he  had  no  other  way 
to  make  himself  important  than  to  attach  himself  wholly 
to  parliament,  and  substitute  the  firmness  of  the  magistrate 
for  the  suppleness  of  the  courtier. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  great  fermentation  that  M. 
de  Puysieux  gave  to  the  king,  as  I  have  already  said,  my 
memorial  in  which  I  stated  the  principles  that  ought  to 
guide  the  conduct  of  his  Majesty  in  the  affairs  relating  to 
the  clergy  and  the  parliaments.  This  memorial  will  be 
found  among  my  papers.  It  foretold  what  has  happened 
since,  and  roused  a  fear  of  the  revival  of  that  fanaticism, 
as  dangerous  for  the  king  as  for  the  State,  which  armed,  un- 
der very  different  circumstances,  the  parricide  hands  of  the 
Clements  and  Eavaillacs.  I  called  to  mind  my  prediction  on 
the  5th  of  January,  1757,  and  I  deplored  the  blindness  of  a 
ministry  that  had  precipitated  the  State  into  such  trouble, 
for  want  of  foresight  and  principles  of  administration. 

All  affairs  that  can  agitate  parliament,  especially  those 
that  concern  religion,  ought  to  be  smothered  at  birth  and 
destroyed  in  their  germ  whenever  men  of  wisdom  in  these 
assemblies,  however  few  in  number,  are  able  to  quench  at 
its  origin  the  progress  of  the  fire.  But  when  matters  have 


250  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  VIL 

once  started,  judicial  forms  and  methods  cany  them  rapidly 
along,  and  a  decision  once  given,  the  wisest  minds  find  them- 
selves linked  with  the  hottest  heads;  they  cannot  then, 
without  violent  shocks,  abolish  or  reform  the  decrees  of 
parliament. 

We  all  remember  that  in  May,  1753,  the  gentlemen  of  the 
courts  of  inquests  and  petitions  were  exiled  to  various  parts 
of  the  kingdom,  and  that  two  days  later  the  presidents  and 
counsellors  of  the  grand-chamber  were  transferred  to  Pon- 
toise  by  lettre  de  cachet.  The  refusal  of  the  sacraments,  or- 
dered, often  improperly,  by  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  had 
caused  parliament  to  issue  injunctions  to  administer  them : 
both  sides  passed  their  due  limits ;  but  was  the  king  well- 
advised  to  exile  his  parliament  ?  He  attempted  in  vain  to 
replace  it  by  the  creation  of  a  royal  chamber,  the  work  of 
M.  d'Argenson,  which  the  other  ministers  did  much  to  dis- 
credit. 

It  is  impossible  to  exile  and  supersede  the  parliament 
of  Paris  without  all  the  other  parliaments  in  the  kingdom 
espousing  its  cause ;  hence  it  would  be  necessary  to  suppress 
them  all;  but  what  rash  head  would  dare  to  give  that 
counsel  to  the  king  ?  What  disturbance  would  be  caused 
to  the  whole  machinery  of  the  State  if  it  came  to  that! 
Into  what  anarchy  would  affairs  be  plunged !  Where  find 
the  necessary  money  to  buy  back  the  offices  ?  and  even 
if  money  could  be  had,  who  would  dare  to  resolve  on 
striking  so  great  a  blow  without  having  the  means  ready 
to  supply  by  other  tribunals  the  functions  of  the  parlia- 
ments ?  What  tribunal  already  established  would  be  will- 
ing to  take  charge  of  them  ?  Could  new  tribunals  be 
composed  of  magistrates  drawn  from  companies  ?  Would  such 
magistrates  be  trained  in  affairs  belonging  to  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  parliaments  ?  Before  they  had  acquired  the  necessary 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE   BEBNIS.  251 

knowledge  and  experience  how  could  justice  be  rendered 
to  the  king's  subjects  ?  Besides,  would  the  public  have  any 
confidence  in  the  new  tribunals,  at  any  rate  unless  they 
showed  the  same  firmness  and  the  same  principles  as  the 
suppressed  parliaments  ?  So  that  the  king  would  meet  with 
more  opposition  in  the  parliaments  of  his  new  creation  than 
in  the  former  ones.  You  cannot  destroy  in  a  day  bodies 
which  have  sent  such  deep  roots  into  the  very  foundations 
of  the  monarchy.  Is  it  to  be  supposed  that  the  king  could 
try  and  judge  in  his  Council  all  the  contentious  affairs  of 
the  kingdom  ?  or  that  the  registration  of  his  edicts  done 
by  his  own  Council  would  fail  to  inspire  fear  and  great 
distrust  in  his  provinces  and  his  subjects  ?  or  that  this 
passage  from  monarchy  to  despotism  could  take  place 
tranquilly  and  without  danger  ?  No !  The  king,  after  being 
sufficiently  enlightened,  must  be  master  of  his  kingdom; 
without  which,  anarchy  and  confusion,  disorder  and  trouble 
would  infallibly  reign  and  the  State  would  be  in  danger; 
but  it  is  necessary  to  put  a  curb  on  the  despotism  of 
ministers,  to  enlighten  at  times  their  ignorance,  to  rectify 
their  blunders,  to  remedy  the  caprices  of  favourites,  to  prop 
their  failures,  to  guard  the  weakness  of  their  government 
against  undertakings  from  within  and  without. 

When  the  king  no  longer  lacks  money  he  will  have 
no  need  of  his  parliaments;  they  will  not  then  prevail 
through  their  compliance  or  their  resistance.  Thus  it  is 
of  consequence  to  regulate  the  finances,  to  refrain  from 
overtaxing  the  people,  to  avoid  unnecessary  expenses,  in 
order  not  to  be  obliged  to  have  frequent  recourse  to  the 
registration  of  bursal  edicts.  When  the  people  are  not 
oppressed,  when  the  course  of  law  and  justice  is  not  inter- 
rupted by  storms  at  Court  and  fermentations  in  parliament, 
the  public  in  France  is  always  for  the  king ;  the  distinctive 


252  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAT-,  vn. 

characteristic  of  the  nation  is  to  love  its  master,  to  respect 
his  authority,  to  defend  him  against  all,  provided  that 
authority  does  not  treat  the  people  with  rigour. 

But  pains  must  be  taken  to  govern  the  parliaments  and 
to  prevent  the  storms  that  arise  there.  By  a  few  deserved 
distinctions,  by  confidence,  by  concert  of  feeling,  it  would  be 
easy  to  maintain  the  calmness  and  subordination  of  those 
great  bodies.  For  it  must  be  said,  to  the  praise  of  the  magis- 
tracy, that  it  is  the  part  of  the  nation  which  has  preserved 
the  best  morals  and  the  most  integrity;  all  things  can  be 
done  with  it  by  gentleness,  by  wisdom,  by  conforming  to 
rules  and  system.  What  strange  abuse  of  power  it  has  been 
to  force  the  king  to  act  always  by  authority !  Do  we  not 
feel  that  instead  of  increasing  that  authority,  which  is 
so  necessary,  it  is  weakened  by  enterprises  that  have  often 
proved  ineffectual  ? 

The  whole  secret  of  legitimate  and  recognized  authority 
consists  in  never  compromising  itself,  and,  consequently, 
in  estimating  correctly  the  resistance  that  projects  may 
encounter  in  execution.  But  in  1753  the  king's  Council 
was  far  indeed  from  that  opinion  and  much  opposed  to  such 
wise  maxims. 

Parliament  was  relegated  from  Pontoise  to  Soissons;  it 
was  recalled  to  Paris  in  August,  1754,  without  any  condi- 
tions, which  further  weakened  public  opinion,  not  of  the 
authority  of  the  king,  but  of  that  of  his  administration.  The 
Prince  de  Conti  had  much  to  do  with  this  return  of  parlia- 
ment, and  with  the  declaration  of  the  king  ordering  silence 
on  matters  of  religion  and  enjoining  parliament  to  take  in 
hand  the  enforcement  of  this  silence,  so  necessary  to  the 
welfare  of  religion  and  the  tranquillity  of  the  State,  and 
see  that  it  was  neither  troubled  nor  broken  on  either  side. 
This  declaration  was  sent  to  parliament  and  registered  Sep- 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  253 

tember  4,  1754;  it  was  a  criticism  on  the  whole  course 
of  the  ministry  up  to  that  time. 

I  have  already  remarked  that  it  would  have  been  very  wise 
in  the  king  to  establish  that  law  if  his  Majesty  had  himself 
undertaken  to  execute  it;  but  it  was  certainly  an  impru- 
dence and  even  a  contradiction  to  have  made  parliament  the 
sole  and  absolute  judge  of  the  respective  inf ringers  of  silence. 
We  must,  however,  allow  that  the  law  was  wise,  and  that 
it  did  restrain  the  two  parties  up  to  a  certain  point. 
A  short  calm  succeeded  all  these  tempests;  the  Eoyal 
chamber  [substituted  for  parliament],  decried  equally  by 
the  Court  and  the  public,  was  abolished  in  September, 
1754;  but  the  refusals  of  the  sacraments  still  continued, 
and  the  king,  in  order  to  withdraw  the  Archbishop  of 
Paris  from  the  proceedings  of  parliament,  exiled  him  to 
Conflans. 

The  assembly  of  the  clergy  held  in  Paris  in  May,  1755, 
was  remarkable.  Cardinal  de  La  Kochefoucauld,  who  pre- 
sided, and  was  given  that  same  year  the  ministry  of 
benefices,  was  the  head  of  this  famous  assembly.  The 
bishops  were  divided  on  the  great  question,  namely :  was  the 
refusal  to  accept  the  bull  Unigenitus  a  mortal  sin,  or  merely 
a  sin  of  grave  import  ?  Sixteen  bishops  were  of  the  first 
opinion,  and  seventeen  of  the  second.1  This  division  scan- 
dalized the  public  and  considerably  weakened  the  strength 
of  the  clergy,  which  consists  chiefly  in  its  union.  Pope  Ben- 
edict XIV.  was  consulted  by  both  parties,  and  the  Comte  de 
Stainville,  afterwards  Due  de  Choiseul,  was  charged  to  ob- 
tain from  the  pope  an  encyclical  letter  settling  the  principles 
of  this  matter  in  relation  to  the  conduct  which  it  behooved 

i  For  a  fairly  dispassionate  account  of  what  the  bull  Unigenitus  really 
was,  and  how  it  originated,  see  the  "Memoirs  of  the  Due  de  Saint-Simon," 
Vols.  I.-IV.  of  this  Historical  Series.  —  TR. 


254  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vn. 

bishops  and  rectors  to  follow  in  the  administration  of  the 
sacraments  to  those  opposed  to  the  bull  Unigenitus. 

If  the  letter  of  that  wise  and  learned  pontiff  had  remained 
such  as  he  first  conceived  it,  nothing  could  have  been  clearer 
or  more  decisive ;  but  the  fear  of  alarming  the  party  of  the 
over-zealous  bishops  caused  the  insertion  into  the  letter  of 
generalities  which  gave  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  and  other 
prelates  occasion  to  find  in  it  an  approval  of  their  conduct. 
It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  this  letter  has  certainly 
moderated  the  too  ardent  zeal  of  some  and  sustained  the  too 
timid  courage  of  others,  and  that  the  peace  of  the  Church 
has  gained  something  by  it.  If  Cardinal  de  La  Eoche- 
f  oucauld  had  lived  longer,  and  if  he,  who  added  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  illustrious  birth  social  and  ecclesiastical  virtues, 
a  dignified  presence,  and  a  desire  for  good,  had  had  a  little 
more  force  of  character,  much  might  have  been  hoped  from 
his  influence  on  the  affairs  of  the  Church. 

The  exile  of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  to  Conflans  had 
re-established  a  sort  of  tranquillity  in  parliament ;  but  the 
hostilities  of  England,  which  foreboded  war,  having  forced 
the  government  to  increase  its  financial  resources,  M.  de 
Machault  insisted  obstinately  on  the  levying  of  the  two 
mngtiemes  in  preference  to  the  dixibme.  The  latter  tax  would 
have  been  voted  unanimously  by  parliament,  which  feared, 
with  good  reason,  that  after  peace  was  made  one  of  the 
mngtiemes  would  be  kept  on  under  various  pretexts,  and  so 
become  a  lasting  burden  on  the  people. 

Parliament  refused  to  register  the  edict ;  minds  became 
heated ;  and  we  saw  the  revival  in  a  moment  of  the  former 
fermentation  of  the  parliaments.  From  that  time  their 
union  grew  closer,  the  boldest  doctrines  were  developed  in 
their  remonstrances ;  the  system  of  a  single  parliament  in 
France,  of  which  each  of  the  parliaments  should  be  a  portion 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  BE   BERNIS.  255 

or  special  class,  was  clearly  developed  and  stoutly  sustained. 
They  began  to  discuss  the  mystery  of  "  the  incarnation  of 
parliament  with  the  king,  and  the  species  of  production  or 
emanation  of  the  sovereign  power  resulting  from  that 
wonderful  union."  The  Court  was  indignant  at  such  prin- 
ciples, and  alarmed  at  the  sort  of  league  which  was  beginning 
to  be  formed  between  the  different  parliaments  of  the  king- 
dom. But  without  refuting  solidly  such  novel  maxims,  it 
contented  itself  with  registering  the  edict  of  the  two  ving- 
tiemes  at  a  lit  de  justice  held  at  Versailles,  at  which  M.  de 
Maupeou,  chief-president,  spoke  with  the  greatest  force  and 
made  his  hearers  face  "  stupendous  evils." 

At  this  period  the  heat  of  the  parliamentary  assemblies, 
becoming  hotter  by  degrees,  communicated  itself  to  the 
public,  and  this  unbridled  license  made  thoughtful  minds 
afraid  of  some  catastrophe.  Our  enemies  conceived  the 
greatest  hopes  from  such  an  effervescence  of  spirits,  and  I 
know,  in  a  manner  not  to  be  doubted,  that  England  set 
everything  at  work,  intrigues  and  money,  to  inflame  these 
first  germs  of  discord.  The  whole  of  the  year  1756  was 
marked  by  actions  which  showed  the  discontent  of  the  par- 
liaments and  the  murmurings  of  the  people ;  but  in  Paris 
especially  the  government  was  criticised  in  society  with  an 
indecency  and  boldness  of  language  which  the  silence  of  the 
Court  seemed  to  authorize. 

The  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  who  was  working  in  secret  to 
pacify  the  clergy  and  put  a  curb  on  the  parliaments,  com- 
posed with  two  or  three  magistrates  certain  edicts  and  decla- 
rations which  were  to  be  registered  at  a  lit  de  justice.  This 
minister  thought  the  work  so  promising  that  he  would  not , 
share  the  glory  of  it  with  his  colleagues.  I  can  say  that  if 
it  had  not  been  for  me  these  edicts  would  have  gone  to  the 
lit  de  justice  without  being  examined  by  his  Majesty's 


256  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vn. 

Council.  This  blind  confidence  was  the  first  cause  of  the 
downfall  of  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  and  also  the  cause,  or 
the  occasion,  of  a  much  greater  evil.  It  is  rash  to  attempt 
suddenly,  by  the  employment  of  force  and  authority,  to  chain 
up  the  most  vigorous  and  most  powerful  bodies  in  the  State. 

I  was  not  informed  until  two  days  before  the  lit  de  justice 
of  the  bold  enterprise  of  M.  de  Machault.  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour informed  me,  December  11,  1756,  of  a  document,  pre- 
pared in  the  cabinet  of  that  minister,  which  the  king  was  to 
take  before  parliament  on  the  13th  to  be  enregistered  at  a  lit 
de  justice.  The  marquise,  biased  in  favour  of  her  friend,  be- 
lieved the  success  of  this  affair  infallible.  I  made  her  feel  the 
impropriety  and  the  danger  of  it ;  she  began  to  see  with  what 
imprudence  they  had  proceeded  in  an  affair  of  that  nature. 
They  expected  that  the  masters  of  inquests  and  petitions 
would  send  in  their  resignations,  but  they  hoped  that  the 
grand-chamber  would  remain  faithful  and  be  sufficient  for 
the  whole  work  of  parliament ;  they  felt  fully  assured  of  the 
faithfulness  of  that  chamber,  that  the  Chatelet  would  con- 
tinue its  functions,  that  the  lawyers  and  barristers  would 
not  shut  the  doors  of  their  offices,  and  that  the  other  parlia- 
ments of  the  kingdom  would  refrain  from  making  common 
cause  with  that  of  Paris.  I  made  her  comprehend  the 
emptiness  of  these  illusions.  I  showed  her  that  the  Keeper 
of  the  Seals  was  compromising  the  king  and  compromising 
herself  in  risking  so  perilous  an  enterprise  without  having 
previously  communicated  it  to  the  Council  of  his  Majesty. 

The  king,  who  saw  the  justice  of  these  reflections,  re- 
solved, though  the  letters-patent  for  the  lit  de  justice  had 
already  been  sent  to  President  de  Maupeou,  to  have  his 
Council  examine  the  declarations  and  the  edicts  on  the 
following  day.  The  Council,  consulted  at  such  a  late 
moment,  merely  observed  that  the  affair  was  already  under 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  257 

way,  that  had  they  been  consulted  earlier  they  might  have 
had  important  reflections  to  make,  but  as  it  was,  they  could 
only  hope  for  the  success  of  the  lit  de  justice.  Thus  the 
ministers  flung  back  upon  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals  the 
iniquity  of  a  work  of  which  they  would  have  appropriated 
all  the  merit  in  case  of  success.  M.  d'Argenson  was  the 
secret  instigator  of  this  unworthy  act  on  the  part  of  the 
Council.  I  should  remark  here  that  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals, 
out  of  hatred  and  jealousy  of  President  Maupeou,  had  never 
consented  to  consult  with  him.  The  latter,  indignant  at 
this  contempt,  followed  an  artful  conduct  in  the  course  of 
this  affair,  of  which,  however,  he  was  the  dupe  some  years 
later,  as  we  shall  presently  see. 

The  king  started,  December  13,  1756,  to  hold  his  lit  de 
Justice  in  Paris.  The  capital  received  him  in  gloomy  silence, 
and  parliament  with  a  half-formed  intention  of  quitting  its 
functions.  The  declaration  concerning  the  affairs  of  religion 
was  merely  an  interpretation  of  the  law  as  to  silence,  and 
the  king  spoke  of  the  characteristics  and  effects  of  the 
bull  Unigenitus  in  a  manner  that  was  too  theological,  and 
not  sufficiently  correct.  This  declaration,  so  far,  was  not 
likely  to  meet  with  any  difficulty  in  parliament ;  but  the 
ruling  that  changed  the  internal  discipline  of  that  body 
was  certain  to  excite  the  very  deepest  opposition. 

The  whole  was  registered  by  authority.  The  lit  de  justice 
over,  nearly  all  the  magistrates  who  composed  the  parlia- 
ment gave  in  their  resignation  to  the  chief-president,  who 
made  no  great  resistance  to  arrest  a  step  so  injurious  to  the 
king,  and  so  prejudicial  to  the  public ;  a  small  number  of 
the  presidents  and  counsellors  of  the  grand-chamber  promised 
to  fulfil  their  functions ;  but  how  could  so  small  a  number 
do  the  work  of  the  whole  body  ? 

The  king  went  off  to  the  chateau  de  la  Muette,  and  all 

VOL.  I. — 17 


258  MEMOIRS   AND  LETTERS   OF  [CHAP.  vn. 

the  ministers  dispersed  to  their  country-houses.  The  start- 
ling character  of  the  course  taken  by  parliament  enlightened 
the  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  and  made  him  see  the  depth  of 
the  abyss  into  which  he  had  plunged  the  State  and  him- 
self ;  his  courage  began  to  abandon  him,  and  M.  d'Argenson 
then  saw  the  ruin  of  his  rival  secured.  The  trouble  became 
extreme  in  Paris;  when  parliament  ceases  its  functions 
some  twenty  thousand  persons  are  brought  to  the  verge  of 
famine;  the  race  of  attorneys  and  scribes  is  intermediate 
between  the  bourgeoisie  and  the  people,  and  its  agitation 
soon  stirred  the  whole  of  Paris. 

Mme.  de  Pompadour,  three  days  after  the  holding  of  the 
lit  de  justice,  sent  me  an  express  asking  me,  from  the  king, 
for  my  opinion  as  to  the  conduct  that  should  be  adopted 
under  the  circumstances.  I  answered  that  it  was  necessary 
to  do  to-day  what  they  would  be  compelled  to  do  six  months 
hence,  and  then  with  much  greater  annoyance  and  difficulty; 
that  the  king  ought  to  send  for  the  chief-president,  order 
him  to  re-assemble  parliament  in  the  grand-chamber,  and 
declare  to  the  assembly  that  his  Majesty  willed  him  to  tear 
up  in  their  presence  all  the  resignations,  and  leave  no 
vestige  of  so  precipitate  an  action,  one  so  contrary  to  the 
oath  which  each  member  of  parliament  had  taken,  and  so 
opposed  to  the  spirit  of  the  magistracy,  and  to  the  respect 
that  was  due  to  the  king ;  that  his  Majesty  was  very  willing 
to  regard  this  act  as  one  of  mistaken  zeal ;  that  he  ordered 
his  parliament  to  resume  its  usual  functions,  and,  as  he 
desired  to  be  enlightened,  he  would  receive  the  representa- 
tions of  his  parliament  on  the  laws  he  had  just  given. 

That  course  would  have  saved  all ;  a  few  changes  would 
have  been  made  in  the  edicts  and  declarations,  and  all 
things  would  have  returned  to  their  accustomed  order. 
The  king  and  his  Council  at  first  approved  of  so  reasonable 


1732-1758]  CABDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  259 

an  action,  but  a  ministerial  intrigue  prevented  its  adoption. 
The  confusion  and  license  then  became  extreme,  and  on  the 
fifth  of  January,  1757,  the  attempt  to  assassinate  the  king 
took  place  (I  shall  speak  of  that  horrible  event  later). 

The  assassination  of  the  king  determined  a  great  number 
of  the  counsellors  and  presidents  of  parliament  to  write 
a  pathetic  letter  to  the  chancellor,  begging  him  to  say  to 
his  Majesty  that,  solely  occupied  by  their  grief,  moved  only 
by  the  desire  to  please  him,  and  give  him  marks  of  their 
zeal,  they  were  ready  to  resume  their  functions :  this  first 
decent  and  very  proper  letter  I  have  seen  and  read.  But  an 
ambitious  magistrate,  acting  in  collusion  with  an  intriguing 
minister,  caused  this  first  letter  to  be  changed,  and  replaced 
by  a  second,  which  was  much  less  becoming  than  the  first. 
The  king's  Council  discussed  what  answer  should  be  made 
to  the  letter.  I  insisted  strongly  that  the  chancellor  should 
answer  favourably  on  the  king's  behalf,  without  quibbling 
over  equivocal  expressions;  the  serious  interests  involved 
being  of  more  importance  than  the  form.  My  opinion  was 
opposed  by  the  plurality ;  it  even  gave  me,  with  some  of  the 
Court,  an  air  of  being  too  favourable  to  parliament.  In  a 
word,  it  was  decided,  against  all  policy  and  prudence,  that 
the  chancellor  should  reply  with  a  haughtiness  and  stiffness 
that  chilled  the  zeal  of  the  magistrates,  and  gave  rise  to  an 
anarchy  which  reigned  in  public  matters  from  that  time 
until  September,  1757. 

How  could  intrigue  prevail  to  such  a  point  against  sense 
and  reason  ?  We  were  in  the  midst  of  a  maritime  war ;  we 
were  about  to  throw  ourselves  into  a  continental  war;  we 
had  no  money ;  we  dared  not  leave  the  people  to  suffer,  the 
city  of  Paris  in  agitation,  all  the  parliaments  of  France 
in  a  ferment;  and  yet,  here  we  were  depriving  ourselves 
of  the  indispensable  help  of  financial  edicts  at  a  time  when 


260  MEMOIRS  AKD  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vil. 

the  king  was  taking  upon  himself  the  most  costly  engage- 
ments !  The  ministers  went  farther  still ;  they  proposed  to 
the  king  (in  spite  of  the  resistance  I  made  to  so  unjust  and 
useless  an  action)  to  select  from  among  the  magistrates  who 
had  given  their  resignations  sixteen  of  those  most  distin- 
guished for  their  talents,  and  these  were  exiled  and  punished 
personally  for  what  was  the  fault  of  all;  and,  moreover, 
they  roused  his  Majesty  to  declare  publicly  that  these  sixteen 
magistrates  would  never  be  allowed  to  resume  the  functions 
of  their  office.  What  blunders !  what  imprudence !  Each 
minister  thought  himself  authorized  to  negotiate  with  parlia- 
ment ;  M.  Berryer,  of  the  council  of  despatches,  and  the 
chief-president,  agreeing  in  public,  but  secretly  rivals,  broke 
up  all  the  measures  of  the  other  negotiators  to  arrogate  to 
themselves  the  honour  of  the  affair;  both  aspired  to  the 
office  of  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  and  both  enjoyed  the  confi- 
dence of  Mme.  de  Pompadour. 

As  for  me,  who  had  never  lived  among  men  of  the  long 
robe,  I  was  reduced  to  giving  my  opinion  in  the  Council; 
but  before  long  several  distinguished  members  of  parliament 
addressed  themselves  personally  to  me.  The  first  who  came 
to  see  me  was  a  counsellor  named  Mercier  de  la  Kiviere, 
since  intendant  of  Martinique ;  he  had  good  intentions  and 
talents,  but  not  much  influence  in  the  Assembly.  MM. 
Mole",  Joly  de  Fleury,  and  d'Ormesson  opened  themselves 
to  me  soon  after  with  as  much  zeal  and  more  resources. 
They  represented  to  me  the  necessity  of  calling  parliament 
together ;  they  assured  me  that  the  assembly  was  disposed 
to  place  great  confidence  in  me,  through  the  opinion  of  my 
integrity  and  loyalty  which  I  had  won  from  the  public. 
The  king  allowed  me  to  treat  with  these  magistrates ;  mean- 
time M.  de  Moras,  controller-general,  M.  de  Maupeou,  M. 
Berryer,  and  several  others,  not  counting  the  Prince  de  Conti 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  261 

(who  had  hitherto  been  the  man  between  the  king  and 
parliament),  were  entangling  their  negotiations,  or  rather 
intrigues,  which  crossed,  re-crossed,  and  contradicted  one 
another,  and  had  no  other  result  than  to  lower  the  royal 
authority. 

However,  my  negotiation  with  M.  Mole*,  President  d'Or- 
messon,  and  the  solicitor-general  began  to  take  colour.  I 
obtained  permission  from  the  king  for  the  members  of 
parliament  to  assemble  at  the  houses  of  their  seniors,  and 
thence  to  issue  a  species  of  declaration  manifesting  the 
desire  they  had  to  resume  their  functions  and  to  give  the 
king  proof  of  their  zeal  and  obedience.  This  memorial  was 
drawn  up  and  approved  by  the  greater  number  of  the 
counsellors  and  was  brought  to  me  by  President  Mole*  for 
presentation  to  the  king.  His  Majesty  seemed  satisfied 
with  it;  but  I  made  him  observe  that  the  expressions  at 
the  end  were  not  sufficiently  respectful ;  it  was  a  question 
of  changing  them,  and  this  was  agreed  to;  but  the  chief- 
president,  who  did  not  wish  that  MM.  Mole*,  d'Ormesson, 
and  de  Fleury  should  have  the  honour  of  terminating  so  im- 
portant an  affair,  sent  missives  everywhere  advising  that 
nothing  be  changed,  as  they  were  already  assured  of  the 
king's  approbation.  This  miserable  intrigue  made  my  ne- 
gotiation a  failure. 

I  then  advised  the  king  to  forbid  his  ministers  from 
treating  in  future  with  the  members  of  parliament,  in  order 
to  cut,  for  a  time,  the  root  and  branch  of  so  many  intrigues, 
and  to  resume  negotiations  later  under  better  auspices  and 
with  more  dignity.  The  anarchy  in  civil  matters  then 
began  again ;  the  lawyers  refused  to  plead,  and  the  grand- 
chamber  concerned  itself  with  nothing  but  the  Damiens 
affair  and  the  return  of  its  members. 

This  was  the  situation  when  in  July,  1757,  M.  Boullongne, 


262  MEMOIRS  AND    LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vii. 

who  had  succeeded  M.  de  Moras  as  controller-general  of 
the  finances,  having  no  longer  any  resources  with  which 
to  meet  the  costs  of  the  war  and  the  subsidies,  made  the 
king  feel  the  absolute  necessity  of  calling  parliament  to- 
gether in  order  to  register  the  financial  edicts  and  procure 
the  indispensable  money.  What  I  had  foreseen  happened ; 
they  were  now  forced  to  do  what  I  had  proposed  they  should 
do  of  their  own  free  will  three  days  after  the  lit  de  justice 
in  1756.  His  Majesty  charged  me  with  arranging  the 
affair  of  assembling  parliament  with  the  presidents  Mole" 
and  d'Ormesson  and  the  king's  lawyers. 

I  succeeded  in  reuniting  parliament  by  the  simplicity 
of  the  plan  I  followed,  by  the  solidity  of  the  principles 
from  which  I  started,  and  by  the  truth  and  candour  with 
which  I  negotiated  with  the  four  magistrates  I  have  already 
mentioned.  It  must  be  said,  to  their  praise,  that  they  put 
great  zeal  for  the  State  and  a  probity  worthy  of  their 
character  and  their  office  into  this  affair,  on  which  depended, 
I  dare  to  say  so,  the  safety  of  the  State;  for  England 
regarded  the  cessation  of  our  courts  of  law  and  our  intestinal 
discords  as  powerful  auxiliaries  in  the  war  she  was  making 
upon  us,  and  I  have  the  proof  that  she  spared  neither 
money  nor  intrigues  to  increase  the  heat  of  our  divisions. 
It  was  to  be  expected  that  the  other  parliaments  would 
cease  to  administer  justice  if  the  king  did  not  reinstate  in 
their  offices  the  dismissed  members  and  the  sixteen  exiled 
counsellors.  Everybody  knew  that  the  necessary  resources 
to  support  the  war  and  meet  indispensable  expenditures 
would  come  to  an  end  in  a  very  short  time.  It  was  in  this 
critical  situation  that  I  formed  my  plan.  Here  are  the 
simple  principles  on  which  I  relied:  — 

Parliament  has  force  only  through  that  of  the  voice  of  the 
people ;  the  fermentations  in  its  assemblies  are  nothing  if 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  263 

not  supported  by  a  public  fermentation.  Therefore  the 
Court,  by  convincing  the  public  of  the  justice  and  kindness  of 
the  king,  disarmed  the  parliaments.  As  soon  as  Paris  says 
that  the  king  is  right,  parliament  has  to  obey ;  its  resistance 
is  not  only  useless,  but  it  becomes  as  irritating  to  the  public 
as  it  has  been  to  the  Court.  Parliaments  must  yield  as  soon 
as  they  are  abandoned  by  the  public.  This  truth,  confirmed 
by  experience,  determined  me  to  fix  upon  a  plan,  in  concert 
with  the  three  magistrates  I  have  already  named,  analogous 
to  those  principles. 

The  king  had  consented  formally,  though  with  regret  and 
from  necessity,  to  the  return  of  the  sixteen  exiled  members. 
Either  he  had  to  break  all  the  treaties  he  had  contracted 
with  the  chief  powers  of  Europe  and  withdraw  his  armies 
from  Germany,  or  he  must  obtain  money  to  support  them 
and  to  pay  the  agreed  subsidies.  The  controller-general,  M. 
Boullongne,  whose  genius  was  neither  fruitful  nor  very  en- 
lightened, saw  no  resource  except  in  the  verification  and 
registration  of  financial  edicts.  Parliament  must,  therefore, 
be  re-established.  But  that  assembly  would  have  refused 
the  registration  of  the  edicts  so  long  as  its  sixteen  members 
were  exiled,  or  at  any  rate  until  a  pledge  was  given  for  their 
return.  The  king  was  therefore  forced  to  grant  that  hope ; 
I  obtained  that  it  should  depend  on  the  good-will  of  the 
king,  and  that  the  time  of  the  recall  of  the  sixteen  should 
not  be  fixed.  This  point  was  difficult  to  settle,  because  all 
the  magistrates  distrusted  the  Court  and  feared  that  after 
they  had  obeyed  the  king's  will  their  colleagues  would  be 
left  to  languish  in  exile  unless  a  period  were  fixed  for  their 
return.  But  I  threatened  to  abandon  the  negotiation  if  they 
did  not  consent  to  make  it  in  keeping  with  the  power  and 
independence  of  his  Majesty. 

It  was  agreed  that  the  king  should  order  his  parliament 


264  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS   OF  [CHAP.  vn. 

to  assemble  on  such  a  day  in  its  grand-chamber ;  that  the 
king's  lawyers  should  then  carry  to  it  a  lettre  de  cachet,  com- 
manding parliament  to  be  at  Versailles  at  a  certain  hour  on 
the  same  day,  to  listen  to  the  king's  orders.  The  sending  of 
the  king's  lawyers  and  the  tenor  of  the  lettre  de  cachet  were 
to  remain  secret ;  and,  above  all,  the  chief-president  was  not 
to  be  informed  until  he  had  actually  taken  his  seat  in  the 
chamber ;  this  secrecy  was  carefully  observed,  and  it  saved 
the  affair.  When  the  members  of  the  grand-chamber  reached 
Versailles  the  chancellor  was  to  pronounce  in  the  king's 
name  a  discourse  in  which  his  Majesty  would  speak  more  as 
a  father  than  as  a  master ;  and  while  this  was  going  on  at 
Versailles  immense  quantities  of  the  chancellor's  speech 
were  to  be  distributed  in  Paris,  even  in  the  cafe's,  theatres, 
and  on  the  public  promenades,  in  order  that  Paris,  before  the 
return  of  parliament,  should  have  time  to  change  its  opinion 
on  the  inflexibility  of  the  Court  and  do  justice  to  the  kind- 
ness and  good  intentions  of  the  king ;  so  that  parliament, 
returning  to  the  grand-chamber,  should  find  the  scene  changed 
and  the  disposition  of  the  public  mind  totally  reversed.  I 
knew  that  such  a  revolution  is  the  work  of  a  moment 
when  excitement  has  passed  and  lassitude  begins  to  take  its 
place ;  all  men  are  susceptible  of  these  variations,  but  French- 
men more  than  others. 

That  is  the  simple  machinery  on  which  I  built  my  edifice 
of  a  negotiation  on  the  success  of  which  depended  the  fate 
of  the  war  and  the  internal  tranquillity  of  the  nation. 

I  did  not  doubt  that  in  changing  the  opinion  of  Paris  the 
resistance  of  parliament  would  be  brought  to  an  end.  I 
even  announced  it  to  the  king,  who  had  not  much  faith, 
neither  had  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  in  the  success  of  my  nego- 
tiation. The  draft  of  the  discourse  to  be  delivered  by  the 
chancellor,  M.  de  Lamoignon  (man  of  integrity,  frank,  and 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  265 

good  citizen),  was  determined  on;  also  the  tenor  of  the 
lettre  de  cachet  which  the  king's  lawyers  were  to  deliver  to 
the  assembly  in  the  grand-chamber.  But  meantime  in- 
trigues were  multiplying,  the  minds  of  the  parliament  grew 
more  and  more  bitter,  until  at  last  the  fermentation  became 
so  violent  that  my  three  negotiators  lost  heart  on  the  eve  of 
the  battle.  In  fact,  it  all  seemed  desperate.  When  the 
session  in  the  grand-chamber  was  called,  members  took 
oaths  not  to  be  present,  and  to  refuse  to  deliberate.  I  was 
warned  by  couriers  of  this  excitement,  and  I  went  to  Paris 
at  once  to  reassure  the  generals  of  my  little  army.  I  heard 
from  them  that  no  one  as  yet  knew  that  parliament  was  to 
be  summoned  to  Versailles,  and  also  that  the  coming  speech 
of  the  chancellor  was  still  unrevealed.  "  You  think  all  is 
lost,  gentlemen,"  I  said  to  them ;  "  but  to-morrow  all  will  be 
won."  They  told  me  afterwards  that  they  were  astonished 
at  my  courage ;  for  if  the  affair  had  failed  they  were  lost, 
and  I  should  equally  have  lost  my  credit  and  influence.  I 
was  at  that  moment  charged  with  the  affairs  of  Europe,  and 
the  events  of  a  war  of  which  I  was  thought  to  be  the  author 
rolled  entirely  upon  me. 

The  crisis  came  the  next  day,  September  1,  1757 ;  it  was 
most  violent,  both  at  Court  and  in  parliament.  M.  Berryer 
gave  Mme.  de  Pompadour  to  understand  that  the  king  must 
order  the  discourse  of  the  chancellor  to  be  examined  before 
it  was  delivered,  that  very  day,  to  parliament.  MM. 
d'Argenson  and  de  Machault  had  been  exiled  some  months ; 
the  Council  was  not  numerous,  nor  was  it  favourable  to 
the  negotiation  I  had  now  brought  so  near  to  its  goal,  and, 
against  the  advice  of  the  chancellor,  that  of  M.  de  Saint- 
Florentin  and  my  own,  it  voted  by  a  plurality  to  change  the 
whole  form  of  the  discourse,  to  make  it  threatening  instead 
of  paternal ;  they  desired  to  make  Louis  XIV.  speak,  not 


266  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vn. 

Henri  IV. ;  instead  of  soothing  minds  in  Paris  and  in  parlia- 
ment it  seemed  as  if  they  were  resolved  to  exasperate  them. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  these  corrections  were 
made.  Parliament  was  to  be  at  Versailles  at  five  in  the 
afternoon ;  the  whole  safety  of  the  affair  lay  in  the  modera- 
tion of  the  speech  of  the  chancellor.  I  took  good  care  not 
to  let  my  negotiators  in  Paris  know  of  this  total  upsetting 
of  all  our  measures ;  hut  I  profited  by  certain  bad  news 
which  arrived  from  the  grand-chamber  to  persuade  the  king 
to  replace  the  speech  of  the  chancellor  in  its  first  integrity. 

In  truth,  from  hour  to  hour,  the  news  grew  worse ;  the 
excitement  in  the  chamber  was  very  great.  M.  de  Maupeou 
seemed  endeavouring  to  pacify  the  clamour>but  did  not  suc- 
ceed. The  king,  to  whom  I  reported  all  that  was  taking 
place,  repeated  to  me  constantly,  "  I  told  you  you  were 
too  confident."  At  last  the  king's  lawyers  entered  the  grand- 
chamber,  and  the  deputation  was  appointed.  It  was  then 
that  I  decided  the  chancellor  and  M.  de  Saint-Florentin  to 
go  to  the  king  and  represent  to  him  that  it  was  playing  the 
State  on  a  toss-up,  and  risking  all  for  a  few  pedantic  phrases, 
to  change  the  tenor  of  the  speech.  I  accompanied  them, 
and  spoke  with  such  force  that  the  king  yielded,  after  the 
dauphin,  who  had  been  much  opposed  up  to  that  moment  to 
the  negotiation,  had  given  his  opinion,  and  that  opinion  was 
very  wise.  Thus  the  speech  I  had  concerted  with  the  three 
members  of  parliament  was  again  resolved  upon,  and  couriers 
distributed  about  Paris  three  thousand  copies  of  it  as  soon  as 
the  deputation  from  parliament  had  started  for  Versailles.1 

The  deputation  listened  to  the  speech  in  gloomy  silence ; 

after  it  was  over  not  a  word  could  they  be  made  to  say.    But 

when  parliament  met  again  after  the  return  of  its  deputation 

the  scene  had  changed ;  by  that  time  it  was  openly  said  in 

i  See  Appendix  III, 


1732-1758]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  267 

Paris  that  if  parliament  did  not  respond  to  the  king's  kind- 
ness it  deserved  his  indignation  and  that  of  the  people.  The 
wiser  heads  were  then  enabled  to  get  control  over  the  excited 
ones;  parliament  resumed  its  functions  and  ordered  repre- 
sentations to  be  made  on  the  third  declaration,  concerning 
the  interior  discipline  of  the  assembly ;  the  two  other  dec- 
larations remained  untouched  and  were  executed  according 
to  their  form  and  tenor. 

The  king  replied  that  he  would  willingly  receive  the 
memorials  his  parliament  would  address  to  him  on  the  sub- 
ject of  his  third  declaration ;  these  memorials  were  never 
presented,  and  things  returned,  in  this  respect,  to  just  what 
they  were  before  the  holding  of  the  lit  de  justice.  Hence  it 
results  that  the  will  of  the  king  is  in  a  great  measure 
executed. 

His  Majesty,  much  pleased  at  the  success  I  had  had  in 
this  great  affair,  was  not  ignorant  of  how  thwarted  I  had 
been  throughout  the  negotiation.  The  cabal  tried  to  take 
away  from  me  all  merit  by  instigating  parliament  to  de- 
mand the  return  of  the  sixteen  exiles  vehemently.  To  cut 
short  these  demands  I  advised  the  king  to  answer  the  depu- 
tation from  parliament  that  the  chambers  ought  to  enjoy 
tranquilly  the  return  of  his  good-will,  which  they  would 
cease  to  deserve  if  they  doubted  it.  His  Majesty  shut  their 
mouths  by  letting  them  know  that  the  return  of  their  col- 
leagues was  certain;  and  he  made  them  feel  at  the  same 
time  that  they  were  wanting  in  the  respect  that  was  due  to 
him  by  demanding  that  the  period  of  this  return  should  be 
fixed. 

Parliament  insisted  no  longer ;  its  usual  work  began  once 
more,  the  laws  were  administered,  justice  was  rendered  to 
the  people,  the  fermentation  ceased,  and  England,  which  had 
counted  on  the  results  of  this  agitation,  began  to  reckon  as 


268  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vii. 

able  the  minister  who  had  conjured  away  the  storm ;  whereas 
at  Versailles  a  part  of  the  Court,  and  Mme.  de  Pompadour 
at  its  head,  reproached  me  for  having  weakened  the  authority 
of  the  king.  Was  it  my  fault  that  the  king  had  been  induced 
to  hold  a  lit  de  justice  so  unwisely  ?  that  he  was  advised  to 
seize  sixteen  magistrates  for  a  fault  common  to  the  whole 
parliament  ?  that  his  controller-general,  at  the  opening  of  a 
maritime  and  continental  war,  was  without  resources,  and 
was  obliged  to  have  financial  edicts  registered  ?  It  is  a 
maxim  of  good  politics  that  small  considerations  shall  yield 
to  great  interests ;  the  king  always  appears  to  advantage  in 
pardoning ;  and  if  his  authority  was  weakened  in  his  con- 
test with  parliament,  it  was  when  his  Majesty,  having  exiled 
it  to  Pontoise  and  vainly  endeavoured  to  put  in  its  place  a 
royal  chamber,  allowed  it  to  return  without  conditions  and 
without  giving  any  external  sign  of  obedience. 

M.  de  Maupeou,  as  I  foresaw,  having  proclaimed  that  he 
had  taken  no  part  in  the  negotiation,  found  himself  out  of 
countenance  and  asked  to  retire ;  M.  Mold,  a  man  of  integrity 
and  good  birth  took  his  place.  Mme.  de  Pompadour  contin- 
ued to  M.  de  Maupeou  an  esteem  of  which  she  gave  him 
striking  proof  five  years  later,  on  the  death  of  M.  Berryer, 
who  ended  his  career  of  minister  of  the  navy  and  Keeper  of 
the  Seals  under  public  and  private  aversion.  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  speak  later  of  this  minister. 

As  soon  as  M.  Mold  was  at  the  head  of  parliament  the 
aspect  of  things  changed ;  nothing  was  done  without  agree- 
ment ;  affairs  were  discussed  before  they  were  taken  to  the 
general  assembly  of  the  chambers ;  the  course  of  studies  in 
theology  at  the  Sorbonne,  long  interrupted,  was  re-estab- 
lished; a  great  number  of  exiles  were  recalled;  benefices 
were  made  the  reward  of  prudence  as  well  as  of  piety ;  the 
Archbishop  of  Paris,  exiled  to  Conflans,  was  recalled  to  the 


1732-1758]  CAKBINAL  DE  BERNIS.  269 

capital  (we  shall  see  later  what  were  the  results  of  my 
negotiations  with  him) ;  the  waves  of  parliament  were  stilled ; 
the  edicts  of  the  king  were  registered  with  obedience  and 
zeal ;  confidence  was  re-established  within  and  without  the 
assembly.  The  enemies  of  France  applauded,  in  spite  of 
themselves,  this  fortunate  change;  but  mine,  on  the  con- 
trary, persisted  in  declaring  that  I  should  have  done  better 
had  I  exposed  the  person  of  the  king  a  second  time  to  fanat- 
icism, broken  the  treaties  made  with  all  Europe,  recalled  our 
armies  from  the  Ehine  —  in  short,  had  I  risked  everything 
rather  than  bring  back  sixteen  members  of  parliament  who 
had  resigned  with  the  rest,  and  whose  only  personal  crime 
was  that  of  having  more  credit  in  their  chambers  than  others 
for  eloquence  or  superiority  of  mind. 

As  for  me  I  was,  on  the  contrary,  in  favour  of  choosing 
among  those  sixteen  magistrates  intendants  for  our  colonies 
and  for  our  provinces.  A  counsellor  of  parliament  who  has 
merit,  and  feels  he  has  it,  has  nothing  to  hope  from  fortune ; 
his  fate  is  fixed  where  it  is.  Neither  fear  nor  hope  can  act 
upon  him  ;  he  is  shielded  by  the  aegis  of  parliament,  which 
is  his  only  judge,  which  protects  him  under  dismissal  and 
insists  on  his  recall.  But  his  office  subjects  him  to  a  hard, 
laborious,  and  retired  life ;  no  salary,  no  distinction  is 
attached  to  his  labour ;  he  must  seek,  necessarily,  to  gain 
through  reputation  what  he  cannot  hope  to  gain  from  for- 
tune ;  and  this  reputation  never  has  more  brilliancy  than 
when  he  determines  his  assembly  to  resist  the  Court  in  mat- 
ters which  concern  religion  or  the  welfare  of  the  people. 
Consequently,  every  magistrate  of  genius  is  likely  to  be  in 
the  party  of  the  opposition  until  it  pleases  the  government  to 
open  to  MM.  the  counsellors  and  the  presidents  that  door 
to  fortune  of  which  his  Majesty  carries  the  key  in  his  pocket. 
It  is  thus  that  the  king,  by  rewarding  merit  in  his  parliament, 


270  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  TII. 

might  make  those  eloquent  lips  speak  in  his  favour  which 
now  open  only  to  restrain  him.  Hope  is  the  first  motive 
power  of  men,  fear  is  the  second ;  when  men  can  be  assured  of 
great  places  and  great  fortunes  by  taking  sides  with  the 
Court  the  king  will  be  sure  of  their  obedience  so  long  as 
the  fundamental  laws  of  justice  are  not  violated.  Thus,  if 
the  Court  wishes  to  govern  the  sovereign  courts  it  must  open 
careers  to  the  able  men  who  compose  them ;  it  must,  before 
sending  an  edict  or  a  declaration  for  registration  by  the 
chambers,  communicate  its  substance  to  their  wisest  mem- 
bers ;  time  must  be  given  to  answer  objections,  to  familiarize 
minds  with  novelties,  or  with  certain  contradictions  between 
new  laws  and  former  ones. 

It  is  impossible  that  a  numerous  assembly  can  be  of  one 
mind  on  wholly  new  matters  (often  ill-digested)  about  which 
the  Court  has  not  deigned  to  inform  them  previously ;  all  the 
resistances  of  parliament  have  come  from  this  want  of  com- 
munication and  concert  of  minds.  You  cannot  govern  en- 
lightened men  except  by  reason  and  by  confidence;  the 
corruption  which  the  Court  often  seeks  to  employ  is  a  dread- 
ful method,  ruinous  to  morals,  and  does  more  harm  to  the 
government  which  employs  it  than  to  those  whose  integrity 
that  government  debases. 

It  was  with  these  maxims  that  I  directed  for  two  years  the 
affairs  of  parliament.  That  assembly,  I  may  dare  to  say  it, 
placed  such  confidence  in  me  that  I  could  have  answered  to 
the  king  at  all  times  for  its  good  conduct,  had  it  pleased 
his  Majesty  to  confide  its  direction  to  me  for  a  longer 
period. 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  271 


VIII. 

1757.  —  That  which  happened  a  few  Days  after  my  Entrance  into  the  Coun- 
cil of  State.  —  The  Crime  of  Damiens.  —  The  Dismissal  of  MM.  d'Argen- 
son  and  de  Machault.  —  The  Conclusion  of  definite  Arrangements  with 
the  Court  of  Vienna. 

I  ENTERED  the  Council,  January  2,  1757  ;  I  was  present  at 
the  Council  of  State,  and  the  next  day  at  that  of  the  des- 
patches. In  the  interval,  I  had  with  a  minister,  a  man  of 
intelligence,  now  dead  some  years,  a  conversation  which 
struck  me,  from  the  picture  of  horrors  he  made  me  foresee  in 
the  near  future ;  he  exhorted  me  to  bring  to  bear,  in  those 
circumstances,  all  the  firmness,  courage,  and  probity  he 
believed  me  to  possess.  I  confess  that  I  then  applied 
these  tragic  reflections  of  the  minister  only  to  the  disorder 
in  the  finances,  the  evils  of  the  war  just  then  beginning, 
and  the  vices  of  the  government.  He  did  not  like  Mme. 
de  Pompadour,  and  I  thought  that  these  prophecies  were  a 
satire  against  her  credit  and  influence.  Perhaps  he  may  have 
had  in  view  none  but  those  things,  and  it  was  this  considera- 
tion which  prevented  me,  after  the  misfortune  of  January  5th, 
from  giving  an  account  of  this  singular  conversation.  Never- 
theless, it  has  always  remained  in  my  head,  and  I  now  have 
difficulty  in  repressing  the  suspicion  that  the  minister  had 
some  vague  idea  of  the  attempt  which  was  about  to  be  made 
against  the  person  of  the  king ;  he  may  have  feared  it  in  a 
general  way,  without  knowing  anything  positive,  —  for  I  do 
not  accuse  him  of  the  guilt  of  keeping  silence.,  had  he  pos- 
sessed any  real  knowledge. 


272  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  nn. 

For  a  long  time  threatening  letters  had  been  written ;  but 
such  letters  are  common  in  times  of  public  excitement ;  it  is 
not  surprising  that  no  notice  was  taken  of  them.  Some  time 
before  the  catastrophe  of  January  5th,  species  of  hiero- 
glyphics drawn  on  paper  were  flung  about ;  on  some  of  them 
was  a  broom  and  a  dagger.  After  the  event,  this  emblem 
was  interpreted  as  having  meant:  "Sweep  out  the  Court 
(that  is,  the  mistress),  stab  the  king."  Many  persons  re- 
marked that  before  the  assassination  of  Henri  IV.  the 
same  sort  of  letters  had  been  written,  announcing  in  general 
some  sinister  event.  All  such  remarks  are  easy  to  make 
after  the  event;  nevertheless,  I  think  that  a  wise  govern- 
ment ought  to  pay  more  attention  to  the  circumstances  that 
give  rise  to  them;  perhaps  if  some  lively  search  had  been 
made  for  the  writers  of  those  anonymous  letters,  and  the 
designers  of  the  emblematical  figures  scattered  among  the 
notaries  of  Paris,  this  horrible  drama  might  have  been  dis- 
covered, or  at  least  averted. 

However  that  may  be,  I  had  slept  in  Paris  on  the  night 
of  January  4th,  and  I  should  have  reached  Versailles  at 
the  moment  when  the  crime  was  committed,  had  my  carriage 
been  ready  when  I  asked  for  it.  M.  Eouilld  was  awaiting 
me  at  Versailles,  to  give  me  the  despatches  which  were  to 
be  taken  to  the  Council  of  State  on  the  6th.  As  I  got  out 
of  my  carriage  at  his  door,  his  porter  told  me  abruptly  that 
the  king  had  been  murdered  half  an  hour  earlier.  My 
blood  turned  back  into  my  heart ;  I  was  silent  for  a  moment ; 
then  I  asked  the  man  if  the  king  were  dead;  he  told  me 
no,  but  very  bad.  The  Court  was  then  at  Trianon,  and 
Versailles  was  almost  deserted.  I  went  up  to  the  king's 
apartments,  making  as  I  went  all  the  reflections  that  could 
be  made  by  a  minister  attacked  by  jealousies,  charged  with 
important  affairs,  who  had  many  enemies,  and  for  sole 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  273 

friendship  that  of  a  woman  ^-  and  that  woman  likely,  accord- 
ing to  all  appearances,  to  be  driven  from  Court  within  a 
few  hours.  These  reflections  came  into  my  mind  with 
singular  rapidity  and  clearness,  and  as  I  mounted  the  stairs 
to  the  king's  chamber  I  resolved  to  be  a  faithful  minister 
in  the  strictest  sense,  and  a  courageous  friend  to  the 
marquise,  without  allowing  my  personal  interests  to  affect 
my  duty  or  my  sentiments. 

I  felt,  as  I  entered  the  king's  cabinet,  a  presence  of  mind 
and  a  courage  that  were  almost  supernatural;  all  extraor- 
dinary events  arouse  the  soul,  and  double  its  forces.  I 
had  inwardly  resolved,  as  I  crossed  the  courtyard  and 
mounted  the  marble  staircase  which  leads  to  the  king's 
antechamber,  that  if  that  prince  died  of  his  wound  I 
would  request  the  dauphin,  then  king,  to  permit  me  to 
retire  from  the  Council,  and  resign  my  place  as  minister; 
there  would  still  remain  to  me  that  of  counsellor  of  State, 
and  the  Abbey  of  Saint-Me*dard ;  those  were  enough  for  a 
younger  son  of  Languedoc,  whom  circumstances,  and  not 
ambition,  had  raised  higher.  The  dauphin  was  Mme.  de 
Pompadour's  enemy ;  he  knew  me  then  under  the  prejudice 
of  my  attachment  to  her ;  by  asking  for  my  retirement  in  the 
first  moments  of  his  reign  I  should  avert  the  storm  to  which 
that  intimacy  exposed  me.  Either  he  would  permit  me 
to  retire  at  once,  or  he  would  order  me  to  remain  in  the 
Council  until  the  important  affairs  now  in  my  hands,  both 
within  and  without  the  kingdom,  could  be  handed  over  to 
ministers  more  acceptable  to  his  Majesty.  In  the  first  case, 
I  should  be  very  happy,  at  forty-two  years  of  age,  as  a 
counsellor  of  State  with  an  abbey  of  thirty  thousand  francs 
a  year ;  in  the  second  case,  I  should  persistently  entreat  the 
new  king  to  grant  me  leave  to  retire ;  possibly,  on  knowing 
me  better,  he  might  retain  me,  or  he  would  send  me  away 

VOL.  I.  — 18 


274  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OP  [CHAP.VIII. 

without  disgrace,  as  an  honest  man  who  did  justice  to  him- 
self, and  to  whom  no  reproach  could  be  made. 

As  soon  as  I  had  chosen  this  course,  and  I  chose  it 
instantly,  I  felt  myself  full  of  strength  and  courage.  I 
resolved  to  serve  the  king  and  the  State  at  so  critical 
a  moment  without  looking  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left, 
and  to  give  to  the  marquise  every  proof  of  my  friendship, 
so  far  as  it  was  compatible  with  the  duties  of  my  ministry. 

On  entering  the  king's  cabinet,  I  saw  the  extreme-unction 
on  the  table  and  the  priests  in  surplices ;  such  was  the  first 
sight  that  struck  my  eyes.  Those  ministers  who  had  not 
the  right  of  entrance  were  assembled  in  the  cabinet;  the 
Mare*chal  de  Belleisle  and  M.  d'Argenson  were  alone  in  his 
Majesty's  chamber  with  the  royal  family.  After  inquiring 
about  the  moment  of  the  catastrophe  and  the  state  of  the 
king,  which  at  that  time  seemed  very  doubtful,  I  heard  that 
he  had  confessed  to  a  priest  of  the  Grand-Commun ;  and 
that  a  messenger  had  been  despatched  for  his  usual  con- 
fessor, Pere  Desmarets,  a  Jesuit,  a  tranquil  man,  at  any  rate 
in  appearance.  I  found  the  Court  more  occupied  with  what 
was  to  happen  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour  than  with  the  dread- 
ful attack  on  the  king.  "  Would  she  go  ?  would  he  see  her 
again  ? "  —  those  were  the  questions  on  which  the  attention 
of  the  Court  seemed  principally  fixed. 

I  went  down  to  her ;  she  flung  herself  into  my  arms  with 
cries  and  sobs  that  would  have  touched  the  heart  of  her 
enemies,  if  the  heart  of  courtiers  were  ever  touched.  I 
begged  her  firmly  to  collect  all  the  forces  of  her  soul,  to 
expect  all,  and  to  submit  herself  to  Providence ;  adding  that 
she  must  not  give  way  to  timid  counsels ;  that  as  the  king's 
friend,  and  no  longer,  for  several  years,  his  mistress,  she 
ought  to  await  his  orders  before  leaving  the  Court;  that, 
being  the  depositary  of  State  secrets  and  of  the  king's  papers, 


1757]  CARDINAL  BE  BERNIS.  275 

she  could  not  dispose  of  her  person ;  that  I  would  inform  her 
hourly  of  the  king's  condition,  and  that  I  would  divide  my 
time  between  what  I  owed  to  the  State  and  friendship. 

I  left  her  after  saying  these  words,  and  returned  to  comfort 
her  every  hour  of  the  night,  which  I  passed  wholly  with  the 
king,  and  after  that,  twenty  times  a  day  while  his  illness 
lasted. 

The  greatest  seigneurs  attached  to  the  marquise,  and  the 
ministers  who  were  her  friends  consulted  me  as  to  the 
manner  in  which  they  should  behave  to  her  at  this  crisis ; 
alleging  that  the  more  zeal  they  showed  her,  the  more  they 
increased  the  hatred  of  her  enemies  and  the  activity  of  the 
cabal  which  was  seeking  to  profit  by  the  tragic  event  to 
drive  her  from  Court.  I  answered  that  courtiers  who  had 
neither  obligations  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour  nor  friendship 
for  her  would  do  well  to  behave  like  the  weathercock  on 
the  chateau  of  Versailles ;  but  that  her  true  friends  should 
appear  still  more  so  at  a  moment  so  terrible  for  her,  the  only 
one,  perhaps,  in  which  they  could  show  their  gratitude  for 
the  services  she  had  done  to  them ;  that  as  for  myself,  I 
should  act  in  that  way,  and  I  believed  there  was  less  to  fear 
in  being  an  open  friend  than  a  shamefaced  and  hidden  one. 

My  feeling  was  not  adopted  by  every  one ;  they  saw  her 
but  little,  and  took  their  time  in  paying  her  attentions. 
M.  de  Machault,  especially,  showed  on  this  occasion  a  timid 
and  embarrassed  behaviour  which  made  him  suspected  of 
compromising  with  the  opposite  side.  It  was  even  thought 
at  Court  that  he  advised  Mme.  de  Pompadour  to  retire ;  but 
that  is  false ;  for  I  inquired  about  it  from  herself.  He  dared 
not,  one  day  when  the  king  called  him  during  his  illness, 
report  immediately  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  as  he  was 
accustomed  to  do,  what  had  passed  between  his  Majesty 
and  himself ;  and  this  was  the  more  extraordinary  as  the 


276  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vin. 

conversation  related  to  her.  He  thought  himself  bound  to 
postpone  till  the  next  day  informing  her  of  this  interview 
with  the  king,  although  I  had  made  him  feel  that  he  was 
leaving  the  king's  friend  and  his  own  too  long  upon  the  rack. 
He  answered,  with  his  usual  cold  air  and  laconic  speech, 
that  it  would  be  remarked  by  the  Court. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  after  the  first  moments  of  tender 
grief  and  despair  the  marquise  showed  great  courage  and 
apparent  tranquillity  during  the  eleven  days  when  the  king 
left  her  without  a  single  consoling  word.  His  Majesty  was 
watched  by  the  whole  Court  and  by  his  whole  family ;  he 
kept  watch  upon  himself  under  circumstances  in  which 
he  may  well  have  made  dark  reflections.  But  inasmuch  as 
he  had  not  sent  his  favourite  away  during  the  first  day  after 
his  attempted  assassination,  the  Court  ought  to  have  compre- 
hended that  he  would  not  do  so  when  his  danger  was  passed ; 
religion  had  great  power  over  the  king,  but  nature  has  even 
more  over  all  men.  The  king  knew  that  the  marquise  was 
only  his  friend,  and  he  believed  that  if  reparation  of  the 
scandal  required  him  to  separate  from  her  it  need  be  done 
at  the  last  moment  only.  She  was  the  depositary  of  the 
secrets  of  his  soul ;  she  knew  ultimately  all  his  affairs ;  she 
was  the  centre  of  his  ministers;  she  was  not  a  mistress, 
to  be  sent  away;  she  was  a  friend,  whom  no  one  could 
replace.  We  judge  kings  severely,  but  they  are  men  like 
us ;  why  have  less  indulgence  for  them  than  for  ourselves  ? 
Grace  alone  can  triumph  in  our  hearts  over  friendship,  and 
grace  does  not  always  do  miracles. 

It  must  be  agreed  that  if  the  marquise  were  spoiled  by 
good  fortune,  if  she  had  made  herself  too  free  with  supreme 
grandeur  and  omnipotence,  she  had  time  during  those  eleven 
days  to  come  back  to  a  sense  of  her  nothingness.  But  the 
danger  over,  reflections  vanished ;  she  seated  herself  once 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  277 

more  upon  the  throne  with  as  much,  and  perhaps  more 
security  than  before,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel. 

I  shall  not  detail  here  all  that  passed  during  the  king's 
illness  and  the  trial  of  the  parricide  Damiens.  I  shall 
choose  a  few  facts  more  connected  with  my  private  history 
than  with  general  history ;  and  to  begin,  I  shall  say  that 
an  hour  after  entering  the  king's  cabinet  I  was  struck  with 
the  idleness  in  which  the  ministers  were  left,  with  the 
liberty  in  which  every  one  was  allowed  to  look  at  the  wretch 
who  had  struck  at  the  king ;  the  same  thing  had  happened 
in  the  case  of  Kavaillac,  to  whom  any  person  was  free  to  talk 
for  many  hours.  I  expressed  my  surprise  to  the  ministers 
at  so  dangerous  a  neglect,  and  at  an  inaction  which  would 
surely  be  regarded  as  criminal  by  the  public;  for  it  was 
of  the  utmost  importance  to  profit  by  the  first  moments 
after  the  crime  to  discover  accomplices,  to  arrest  suspected 
men  and  unknown  persons  who  might  endeavour  to  leave 
the  kingdom;  it  was  not  less  important  to  reassure  the 
public,  especially  the  city  of  Paris,  so  given  to  excitement 
and  to  tranquillize  our  allies  on  the  eve  of  a  general  war. 

All  the  ministers  agreed  to  the  justice  of  these  reflections, 
but  they  all  answered  that  the  king  alone  and  the  dauphin, 
to  whom  the  king  had  said,  "  I  make  you  my  lieutenant ; 
assemble  the  council  and  preside  over  it,  if  necessary,"  could 
give  the  orders.  I  even  saw  that  the  principal  ministers, 
afraid  of  getting  into  some  trouble  themselves,  were  retir- 
ing to  their  homes.  I  then  decided  to  ask  to  speak  to 
Mare'chal  de  Belleisle  and  to  Comte  d'Argenson,  who  were 
in  the  king's  room.  I  told  them  of  my  reflections ;  but  I 
found  them  not  at  all  disposed  to  set  the  dauphin  in  action  ; 
for  fear  perhaps  that  the  king,  after  his  recovery,  might  be 
inwardly  displeased  with  them  for  allowing  his  son  to  play 
so  important  a  part.  It  showed  little  knowledge  of  the  king, 


278  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

and  little  feeling  for  the  welfare  of  the  State,  to  give  way  to 
such  caution  at  such  a  moment.  In  vain  I  represented  to 
them  that  the  dauphin,  wholly  occupied  with  the  king's  state 
and  his  own  grief,  could  not  foresee  the  inconveniences  that 
would  arise  from  the  inaction  of  the  Council,  and  that  if  the 
king  died  of  his  wound,  nothing  could  justify  the  government 
for  having  allowed  the  thread  of  this  odious  conspiracy  to 
be  lost. 

M.  d'Argenson  said  that  I  spoke  as  a  true  minister ;  "  but," 
he  added, "  who  is  to  take  the  initiative  ? "  "  You,  monsieur,"  I 
said ;  *  you  are  in  the  king's  room  with  the  dauphin."  The 
answers  of  the  count  and  the  mare'chal  were  alike.  "We 
fulfil  our  duty,"  they  agreed  in  saying,  "  when,  under  critical 
circumstances,  we  are  ready  to  execute  orders,  without  fore- 
stalling them."  Impatience  got  the  better  of  me.  "  Yes, 
gentlemen,"  I  said,  "  that  is  enough  to  save  us  from  being 
ruined,  but  not  enough  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  a  ministry."  All 
my  representations  were  useless. 

Then,  seeing  that  precious  time  was  being  lost,  I  got  the 
Baron  de  Montmorency,  my  relation  and  old  friend,  to  ask 
Madame  Adelaide,  whose  gentleman  of  honour  he  was,  to 
make  the  dauphine  see  how  important  it  was  for  the  safety 
of  the  king,  the  good  of  the  State,  and  the  dauphin's  reputa- 
tion, that  the  latter  should  assemble  the  Council  to  consult 
on  the  measures  to  be  taken  both  within  and  without  the 
kingdom.  The  commission  was  well-executed.  A  few 
moments  later  the  dauphin  came  out  from  the  king's  room, 
and  addressing  himself  to  me  and  to  MM.  de  Moras  and 
de  Paulmy,  he  asked  if  we  thought  that  the  Council  ought  to 
be  assembled.  "Undoubtedly,  monseigneur,"  I  replied;  "it 
was  never  more  important  to  summon  them."  "  But,"  said 
the  dauphin,  "  the  other  ministers  are  not  here."  "  Give 
your  orders,  monseigneur,  and  they  will  be  here."  The  dau- 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BEENIS.  279 

phin  then  returned  to  the  king's  room,  took  the  orders  of 
his  Majesty  to  assemble  the  ministers,  and  gave  them  to  the 
Mare*chal  de  Kichelieu,  the  gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber  on 
service. 

The  Council  assembled  in  the  king's  inner  cabinet.  The 
dauphin  explained  with  dignity  and  tenderness  for  his  father, 
and  with  the  greatest  precision,  the  objects  on  which  the 
Council  was  to  deliberate.  He  questioned  me  first  on  my 
opinion,  as  I  was  the  last  to  enter  the  Council.  I  do  not  know 
if  I  deserved  the  praises  given  to  the  detail  I  made  of  the 
measures  that  ought  to  be  taken  in  the  kingdom  and  towards 
foreign  countries,  but  my  plan  was  unanimously  adopted; 
perhaps  because  the  ministers  were  very  glad  not  to  take 
anything  upon  themselves  in  circumstances  so  critical. 
However  that  may  be,  from  that  moment  the  dauphin  con- 
ceived an  esteem  for  my  character  and  the  turn  of  my  mind, 
and  also  a  liking  of  which  he  gave  me  flattering  proofs  un- 
til his  death. 

Another  Council  was  called  for  the  morrow ;  and  after 
that  there  was  one  daily,  also  committees  with  the  chancellor, 
and  a  very  secret  one  with  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals.  I  shall 
not  say  here  what  passed,  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  speaking 
of  certain  circumstances  that  occurred. 

The  majority  of  the  council  was  of  opinion  that  Damiens 
ought  to  be  tried  by  a  commission  of  counsellors  of  the  State 
and  masters  of  petitions.  I  was  strongly  opposed  to  this. 
The  commission  was  already  chosen.  M.  d'Argenson  and 
the  Keeper  of  the  Seals  maintained  that  it  was  the  only 
course  to  take.  The  grand-chamber  of  parliament  was  notified 
of  this ;  President  Mole*  and  the  king's  lawyers  came  out  to 
Versailles  to  ask  an  explanation  of  the  chancellor  M.  de 
Lamoignon,  who  told  them  plainly  that  such  was  his  opinion. 
These  gentlemen  met  me  and  told  me  what  they  had  heard 


280  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

from  the  chancellor's  own  lips.  I  took  upon  myself  to  say 
that  either  they  had  ill  understood  him,  or  the  chancellor  had 
explained  himself  badly ;  that  nothing  was  decided,  and  that 
the  king  had  confidence  in  the  fidelity  of  the  grand-chamber 
of  his  parliament. 

I  had,  a  few  hours  earlier,  met  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals  at 
Mme.  de  Pompadour's,  and  I  had  made  him  feel  how  such  a 
commission  on  the  king's  assassination  would  rouse  the 
suspicions  of  the  people.  He  cited  examples,  which  I  re- 
futed ;  and  I  gave  him  so  great  a  fear  of  consequences  that 
he  changed  his  opinion  and  made  several  others  change 
theirs.  When  the  Council  met,  I  spoke  strongly  in  favour  of 
carrying  the  trial  by  letters  patent  to  the  grand-chamber ; 
this  plan  was  adopted.  They  wished  that  the  princes  and 
peers  should  assist,  and  that  seemed  decent  and  reasonable 
at  first  sight,  though  the  inconveniences  were  felt  later. 

I  suppress  a  great  number  of  curious  anecdotes,  because 
nothing  is  more  dangerous  in  regard  to  the  assassination  of 
a  king  than  to  relate  facts  which  put  ideas  into  the  minds 
of  villains.  For  this  reason  I  opposed  with  all  my  strength 
the  printed  publication  of  Damiens'  trial  That  wretch  was 
well  informed  on  the  slightest  circumstance  of  Eavaillac's 
trial.  The  monsters  who  resemble  the  latter  take  lessons  of 
firmness  and  adroitness  from  his  printed  record;  besides 
which,  the  public  was  never  satisfied  about  the  interroga- 
tions on  that  trial,  which  left  an  odious  ambiguity  over  the 
affair.  As  for  me,  I  shall  not  say  what  I  think.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  a  villain  who  believes  he  has  personal  cause  to 
complain  of  the  king  may  conceive  the  idea  of  killing  him 
and  braving  the  peril  he  runs  and  the  horrible  punishment 
that  awaits  him ;  he  may  have  the  audacity  to  execute  his 
project ;  revenge  may  blind  a  man  to  that  point ;  but  fanat- 
icism alone  arms  regicides  who  have  no  other  motive  than 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  281 

to  do  (according  to  their  way  of  thinking)  good  service  to 
religion  and  the  public. 

During  Damiens'  trial  and  for  some  time  after,  those 
about  the  king  did  not  cease  to  show  him  threatening  letters 
and  atrocious  and  seditious  placards,  and  to  warn  him  of 
other  conspiracies.  They  wanted  to  frighten  him ;  he  had 
not  sent  away  the  marquise,  and  they  wanted  to  force  him 
into  it  through  the  dread  of  being  stabbed  again.  I  have 
heard  the  king,  after  reading  one  of  those  dreadful  letters, 
speak  with  a  coolness,  firmness,  and  reason  above  all  praise. 

During  his  illness  he  treated  me  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness, and  with  a  confidence  which  binds  me  to  him  by  ties 
that  nothing  can  break  or  weaken.  The  royal  family 
allowed  me  to  approach  his  bed,  being  convinced  that  I 
would  give  him  no  bad  advice.  I  had  declared  to  Mme.  de 
Pompadour  that  if  the  king  spoke  to  me  of  her  and  asked 
my  advice  I  should  endeavour  to  avoid  giving  it ;  but  that 
if  the  king  exacted  it  of  my  honesty  I  could  not  prevent 
myself  from  telling  him  that  he  was  bound  to  regard  her  and 
treat  her  eternally  as  a  friend,  but  that  he  ought  to  put  an 
end  to  scandal  by  no  longer  living  with  her  in  close  familiar- 
ity. No  doubt  she  did  not  love  me  the  more  for  thinking 
thus,  but  it  did  not  prevent  her  from  esteeming  me  more. 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  king,  who  called  me  to  him  as 
soon  as  I  entered  the  room,  and  who  affected  to  talk  to  me 
in  a  low  voice  about  his  family,  his  affairs,  his  griefs,  never 
once  mentioned  Mme.  de  Pompadour's  name.  He  had 
often  said  to  me,  in  speaking  of  Madame  Infanta,  "  She  has 
confidence  in  you,  and  she  is  right,  for  you  are  indeed  a  very 
honest  man."  Perhaps  it  was  this  idea  of  honesty  which 
made  the  king  fear  that  if  he  asked  me  the  truth  as  to 
things  that  were  near  his  heart  I  might  have  the  courage 
to  tell  it  to  him. 


282  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

The  Comtesse  de  Toulouse,  who  had  friendship  for  me, 
was  charged,  she  told  me,  by  the  royal  family  (after  the 
king  was  out  of  danger)  to  induce  me  to  advise  the  mar- 
quise to  retire,  adding  that  this  retirement  would  not  di- 
minish the  king's  confidence  and  friendship,  would  secure 
to  her  at  all  times  the  protection  of  the  dauphin,  and  cover 
her  with  glory  in  the  eyes  of  Europe.  I  answered  that  if  I 
were  only  the  private  friend  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour  I  would 
willingly  accept  the  commission,  and  I  had  a  sufficiently 
good  opinion  of  her  to  feel  sure  that  this  commission  would 
be  well  received ;  but  as  minister  of  the  king,  I  could  not 
without  knowing  his  intentions  give  advice  of  that  nature  to 
a  person  who  was  dear  to  him,  and  who,  moreover,  was  the 
depositary  of  all  the  secrets  of  State.  This  answer  satisfied 
them ;  it  was,  in  truth,  that  of  reason  and  justice. 

At  the  end  of  eleven  days  the  king  wrote  to  Mme.  de 
Pompadour.  Intrigues  and  intriguers  were  disconcerted; 
everybody  now  tried  to  make  his  peace  with  one  who,  from 
that  moment  took  a  much  greater  ascendency  and  a  far  more 
important  part  than  she  had  ever  yet  had  in  affairs  of  State. 
The  courageous  friendship  I  had  shown  to  her  went 
without  reward.  She  said  to  me  one  day  that  I  was  very 
shrewd,  inasmuch  as  I  had  found  a  way  to  enchant  the  royal 
family  while  giving  to  her  the  most  unequivocal  marks  of 
attachment.  That  reflection,  so  full  of  sourness,  jealousy,  and 
distrust,  filled  me  with  indignation.  I  replied  that  it  proved 
that  the  more  a  man  was  honest,  the  more  he  was  sure  of 
pleasing  the  royal  family.  She  felt  her  injustice,  and  tried 
to  repair  it. 

Before  ending  my  account  of  this  sad  affair,  I  wish,  in 
order  to  enliven  it,  to  relate  a  thing  which  happened  one 
evening  in  the  king's  chamber.  Three  days  after  the  at- 
tempt at  assassination,  all  the  courtiers  entered  while  his 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE   BERNIS.  283 

Majesty  took  his  bouillon;  I  entered  too,  among  the  crowd. 
Pere  Desmarets,  the  king's  confessor,  saw  me  as  I  was 
struggling  through  the  throng  to  approach  the  king's  bed. 
"Come  this  way,"  he  said,  "and  I  will  show  you  a  place 
where,  although  you  will  be  behind  everybody,  the  king  will 
see  you  the  moment  his  curtains  are  opened."  It  seemed  to 
me  impossible,  but  he  insisted,  and  I  let  him  place  me. 
Sure  enough,  I  was  directly  opposite  the  opening  of  the 
king's  curtain,  and  he  called  me  at  once ;  whence  I  conclude 
that  his  confessor  is  well  versed  in  the  laws  of  optics. 

After  this,  I  persuaded  Mme.  de  Pompadour  to  get  the 
dauphin  admitted  to  the  Council  of  State;  he  was  not 
ignorant  that  he  owed  this  to  me. 

For  the  last  five  or  six  years  the  marquise  had  employed 
all  her  influence,  all  the  manoeuvres  of  M.  Berryer,  lieutenant 
of  police,  and  all  the  adroitness  of  M.  de  Machault  to  induce 
the  king  to  dismiss  Comte  d'Argenson.  That  minister  had 
intellect,  was  agreeable,  possessed  a  noble  presence,  and  had 
conducted  himself  better  than  all  the  other  ministers  during 
the  king's  illness  at  Metz ;  in  addition,  he  was  not  wanting 
in  the  quality  of  intrigue,  and  was  not  slow  in  using  it.  I 
had  often  advised  him  to  be  reconciled  with  the  marquise, 
but  always  in  vain ;  he  was  profoundly  sunk  in  the  common 
error  of  ministers  who  have  been  favourites,  and  who  there- 
fore believe  they  will  always  be  loved.  Whether  from  pride, 
or  from  his  conviction  of  the  king's  good-will,  he  rejected  all 
offers  that  were  made  to  him  from  time  to  time  to  come  to 
terms  with  the  marquise. 

After  the  attack  upon  the  king,  seeing  that  she  was  no 
longer  satisfied  with  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  I  again  urged 
her  to  be  reconciled  with  M.  d'Argenson ;  I  made  her  com- 
prehend how  much  she  would  comfort  the  king  by  no  longer 
importuning  him  against  a  minister  whom  his  Majesty 


284  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

thought  necessary,  or  whose  services,  at  any  rate,  were  agree- 
able to  him ;  I  insisted  on  the  good  that  would  result  to 
the  war,  then  about  to  begin  in  Germany,  from  a  true  har- 
mony between  herself  and  the  secretary  of  State  for  war, 
and  on  the  great  evils  that  might  result  from  the  lack  of 
it.  After  arguing  the  matter  for  a  long  time,  she  yielded 
to  my  reasons,  and  made  me  her  ambassador  to  M.  d'Argen- 
son,  charging  me  to  assure  him  of  the  desire  she  had  to  live 
on  good  terms  with  him  for  love  of  the  king,  and  for  the 
benefit  of  his  affairs. 

The  whole  Court  now  saw  that  as  the  king  had  not  sent 
away  the  marquise  at  the  moment  of  the  assault  upon  him, 
she  would  certainly  have  more  influence  than  ever,  especially 
as  it  was  now  known  that  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa  had 
addressed  her  in  regard  to  obtaining  the  treaty  with  France. 
Nothing  of  all  that  seemed  to  strike  Comte  d'Argenson ;  he 
saw  in  the  advances  of  the  marquise  only  the  last  efforts  of 
a  drowning  person  endeavouring  to  cling  where  she  could. 
I  saw  his  error,  and  tried  in  vain  to  correct  it  by  represent- 
ing to  him  that  he  risked  nothing,  if  he  declared  to  the 
king  that  he  reconciled  himself  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour 
solely  out  of  respect  for  his  Majesty,  and  for  the  benefit  of 
his  affairs;  that  this  reconciliation  could  not  prevent  the 
king  from  dismissing  the  marquise  if  he  wished  to  do  so ; 
but  that  it  certainly  sheltered  himself  from  the  revenge  of  a 
woman  who  was  very  powerful  if  she  retained  her  influence  ; 
"  for,"  I  said,  "  the  stronger  the  advances  she  has  made  to 
you,  the  less  she  will  forgive  you  if  you  despise  them."  I 
did  not  conceal  from  him  that  it  was  only  with  much 
trouble  that  I  had  brought  Mme.  de  Pompadour  to  desire 
this  reconciliation.  My  words  were  in  vain.  He  assured 
me  he  was  prepared  for  all  results ;  he  had  been  made  to 
bear  all  sorts  of  indignities,  and  was  well-accustomed  tx? 


1757J  CARDINAL   DE  BERNIS.  285 

them.  "  But  you  are  a  clever  man,"  he  said ;  "  make  a  civil 
answer  to  her  for  me." 

I  did  so ;  and,  in  consequence,  Mme.  de  Pompadour  sent 
for  Comte  d'Argenson,  and  spoke  to  him  with  some  ardour. 
He  answered  her  with  irony,  in  a  jesting  manner.  He  saw 
that  she  was  about  to  get  rid  of  M.  de  Machault,  his 
enemy,  he  despised  her,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  make  him- 
self dependent  on  her.  I  should  have  comprehended  this 
manner  of  thinking  as  being  justly  proud,  if  he  had  not  been 
so  attached  to  his  office,  and  if  he  had  been  more  philosophical 
than  ambitious;  self-love  is  blinding.  He  could  not  con- 
ceive that  the  marquise,  after  vainly  endeavouring  to  cause 
his  ruin,  would  bring  herself  to  have  recourse  to  him  unless 
she  had  thought  that  step  necessary  to  strengthen  her  totter- 
ing influence.  I  now  saw,  by  a  few  words  dropped  by 
chance,  that  Mme.  de  Pompadour  was  henceforth  resolved 
to  sacrifice  everything  in  order  to  drive  Comte  d'Argenson 
from  Court ;  and  in  taking  this  resolution  she  consulted  the 
interests  of  her  vengeance  more  than  those  of  the  State. 

M.  d'Argenson  had  ideas  and  experience ;  his  nephew,  the 
Marquis  de  Paulmy,  lacked  the  necessary  firmness  to  take 
his  place  at  the  opening  of  a  war  in  which  so  many  interests 
were  to  clash.  The  dismissal  of  M.  d'Argenson  caused,  in 
a  great  measure,  the  disasters  that  came  upon  us  hi  the  last 
war.  He  never  desired  the  success  of  the  Treaty  of  Ver- 
sailles, but,  for  the  sake  of  his  own  reputation,  he  would 
have  conducted  the  war  well,  and  checked  the  license  and 
insubordination  which  reigned  in  our  armies. 

It  must  also  be  said  that  the  dismissal  of  M.  de  Machault 
was  done  at  the  wrong  moment.  That  minister  was  suffi- 
ciently well  trained  in  the  affairs  of  the  navy ;  the  officers 
respected  him  and  even  loved  him.  Certainly  M.  de  Moras, 
whom  I  believe  to  be  an  honest  man,  was  not  in  a  condition 


286  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

to  take  his  place ;  for  M.  de  Machault  had  the  presence,  self- 
possession,  and  dignity  of  a  minister;  too  little  openness, 
perhaps,  too  much  despotism  and  curtness,  too  pedantic  an 
air,  not  enough  knowledge  of  Europe,  and  too  much  confi- 
dence in  his  clerks ;  but  these  defects  were  balanced  by  intel- 
ligence, insight,  adroitness,  and  a  suitable  deportment. 

It  is  said  that  the  marquise  sacrificed  him  to  the  king  to 
make  sure  of  the  dismissal  of  M.  d'Argenson.  I  think  this 
opinion  false.  The  king  dismissed  M.  d'Argenson  because 
he  was  persuaded  to  think  him  a  knave  who,  by  his  intrigues, 
was  stirring  up  discord  in  Paris  and  at  Court.  His  relations 
with  the  Comtesse  d'Estrades  did  him  much  harm.  He  was 
also  accused  of  not  having  paid  enough  attention  to  the 
department  of  Paris  which  was  confided  to  him,  and  of  hav- 
ing spared  the  authors  of  seditious  placards.  In  a  word,  they 
persuaded  the  king  that  he  was  guilty  of  having  tolerated 
disorders  for  the  purpose  of  intimidating  his  Majesty  and 
making  him  believe  that  as  long  as  he  kept  the  marquise 
daggers  would  be  ready  for  him. 

As  for  M.  de  Machault,  the  marquise  was  convinced  that 
he  had  failed  her  during  the  king's  illness ;  also  that  at  the 
moment  when  parliament  quitted  its  functions  and  sent  in 
its  resignations  his  head  gave  way ;  she  did  not  blame  his 
heart,  but  she  believed  that  fear  had  confused  and  obscured 
his  brain.  Madame  Infanta  told  me  that  the  king,  in  writ- 
ing to  her,  said  that  it  was  with  much  pain  he  dismissed  the 
minister  in  whom  he  had  most  confidence,  but  that  circum- 
stances required  it.  Possibly  the  king  was  induced  to  believe 
that  as  long  as  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals  was  in  office,  parlia- 
ment would  never  be  tranquil. 

However  that  may  be,  the  marquise  confided  to  me  only  in 
part  the  dismissal  of  the  two  ministers.  I  own  I  did  not 
believe  she  could  succeed  in  sending  away  M.  d'Argenson  at 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  287 

the  opening  of  the  war.  As  for  M.  de  Machault,  it  was  plain 
that  she  could  no  longer  endure  him ;  she  avoided  being 
alone  with  him,  and  often  detained  those  who,  out  of  discre- 
tion, were  about  to  leave  them  tete  a  t§te.  Here  are  the 
letters  of  the  king  dismissing  the  two  ministers:  — 

February  1, 1757. 

MONSIEUR  DE  MACHAULT  :  Though  I  am  convinced  of  your 
probity  and  of  the  uprightness  of  your  intentions,  present  cir- 
cumstances oblige  me  to  ask  you  for  my  Seals  and  for  the 
resignation  of  your  office  as  secretary  of  State  for  the  navy. 
Be  always  sure  of  my  protection  and  friendship.  If  you 
have  any  favours  to  ask  for  your  children  you  can  do  so  at 
all  times.  It  is  best  that  you  should  stay  some  time  at 
Arnouville.  Louis. 

I  continue  your  pension  of  20,000  francs  as  minister  of  the 
navy,  and  your  honours  as  Keeper  of  the  Seals. 

February  1, 1757. 

MONSIEUR  D'ARGENSON  :  Your  services  no  longer  being  nec- 
essary to  me,  I  order  you  to  send  in  your  resignation  as  secre- 
tary of  State  for  war,  also  of  your  other  offices,  and  retire  to 
your  estate  of  Les  Ormes.  Louis. 

M.  d'Argenson  and  M.  de  Machault  were  exiled  on  a  Tues- 
day at  the  same  hour,  neither  of  them  expecting  the  catas- 
trophe. The  king  had  treated  them  both  equally  well  in 
public  and  in  private ;  each  inwardly  believed,  seeing  that  a 
storm  was  about  to  burst,  that  his  enemy  was  the  one  who 
alone  would  be  crushed.  I  remember  that  two  days  before  his 
exile,  M.  d'Argenson  said  to  me:  "You  are  playing  the 
mysterious,  but  you  know  very  well  that  Machault  is  pack- 
ing up ;  the  marquise  does  not  choose  to  see  him ;  his  dismissal 


288  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

is  the  affair  of  a  week  at  most."  And  thereupon  he  made 
jests  which  I  thought  misplaced ;  I  even  told  him  that  I 
thought  ministers  ought  never  to  jest  on  the  disgrace  of  their 
colleagues,  for  they  were  often  very  near  to  it  themselves ;  I 
did  not  think  I  spoke  so  truly. 

The  evening  before  the  exile  of  these  ministers  I  found 
the  king  with  Mme.  de  Pompadour  in  such  ill-humour,  and 
she  so  sad,  that  I  thought  his  Majesty  must  have  received 
another  threatening  letter,  or  else  that  the  two  had  quar- 
relled. After  the  king's  departure  she  told  me  that  the  king 
had  said  nothing  of  what  was  troubling  him.  He  had  just 
given  M.  Kouille  and  M.  de  Saint-Florentin  the  letters  in 
which  he  dismissed  the  two  ministers.  The  king  always 
resolved  with  great  difficulty  on  doing  harm  to  any  one,  and 
above  all,  in  dismissing  an  old  servant.  He  did  not  inform 
the  marquise  of  the  orders  he  had  given  until  an  hour  after 
midnight,  so  that  she  could  not  warn  me  of  them ;  therefore 
the  next  morning  when  all  the  foreign  ministers  came  to  talk 
to  me  about  the  exile  of  MM.  d'Argenson  and  de  Machault, 
who  had  been  seen,  they  said,  starting  for  their  estates,  I 
maintained  to  them  that  it  was  not  true,  with  all  the  more 
confidence  because  I  had  seen  the  king  and  the  marquise  so 
late  the  night  before,  and  because  I  was  too  much  in  favour 
at  that  time  not  to  have  been  informed  of  so  important  a 
resolution. 

M.  de  Paulmy  [son  of  the  Marquis  d'Argenson,  who 
had  died  a  week  earlier]  succeeded  his  uncle  in  the  war 
department,  in  which  he  had  been  assistant-secretary  of  State 
for  some  years,  and  M.  de  Moras  united  the  office  of  minister 
of  the  navy  with  that  of  controller-general  of  finances. 
They  took  those  places  two  days  later  at  a  Council  of  State. 
M.  de  Moras  complaining  one  day  to  the  Sieur  Fayet,  his 
confidential  surgeon  (a  bold  and  sometimes  amusing  Gascon), 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  289 

that  the  burden  was  too  heavy  for  him,  Fayet  replied:  "So 
much  the  better,  monseigneur;  the  more  the  ass  is  laden, 
the  better  he  goes." 

The  misfortunes  of  France  began  at  this  period.  The 
king's  Council  was  no  longer  respected.  The  war  and  the 
navy  soon  felt  that  the  hands  that  held  the  reins  were  too 
weak;  license  and  confusion  took  possession  of  the  two 
departments.  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  with  her  childlike  con- 
fidence, believed  that  with  her  help  all  would  go  well ;  I  did 
not  think  so,  nor  our  allies  either.  They  regarded  as  a 
capital  fault  the  dismissal  of  the  two  ministers  under  present 
circumstances. 

M.  d'Argenson,  on  hearing  of  his  disgrace,  bore  it  for  a 
time  with  sufficient  firmness ;  but  at  the  end  of  five  years 
ennui  laid  hold  of  him,  grief  took  possession  of  his  soul, 
and  he  had  a  fall  which  completed  the  ruin  of  his  physical 
machinery.  On  the  death  of  his  wife,  April,  1764,  he 
obtained  permission  to  come  to  Paris  and  attend  to  his 
affairs.  I  had  then  returned,  about  six  months  earlier,  from 
my  own  exile.  I  found  M.  d'Argenson  in  the  grasp  of 
death,  still  struggling  with  ambition.  No  sermon  ever  made 
such  an  impression  on  me  as  the  sight  of  that  dying  minister. 
He  said  to  me  repeatedly, "  Your  fortune  does  not  astonish  me, 
but  your  return  does."  It  is  true  that  my  return  was  very 
different  from  his;  the  king  and  the  public  had  welcomed 
me;  I  had  just  been  appointed  to  the  archbishopric  of  Alby ; 
and  his  Majesty  had  crowned  that  favour  with  all  that  could 
make  it  most  agreeable.  M.  d'Argenson,  on  the  contrary, 
was  still  exiled ;  he  did  not  even  hear  before  he  died  that 
the  king  had  permitted  him  to  live  in  Paris ;  his  head  was 
full  of  intrigues  and  projects  while  the  chill  of  death  was 
on  his  body.  He  died,  August,  1764,  with  the  desire  to 
live  and  to  reign. 

VOL.   I.— 19 


290  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

M.  de  Machault,  on  the  contrary,  who  was  believed  to  be 
much  more  crushed  by  his  dismissal,  has  given  himself  up 
to  solitude.  He  sees  few  persons,  but  is  well  in  health  and 
growing  fat,  which  is  the  sign  of  a  sound  head  in  dismissed 
ministers.  I  do  not  know  if  he  has  renounced  all  ideas  of 
influence  and  power;  he  is  still  young  enough  to  hope  for 
them,  but  circumstances  and  the  present  condition  of  minds 
are  not  favourable  to  him. 

Never  was  any  negotiation  so  keen  conducted  so  slowly 
as  that  of  the  definitive  arrangements  between  the  Court 
of  Versailles  and  that  of  Vienna ;  eight  whole  months  had 
been  employed  in  constructing  the  Treaty  of  Versailles,  and 
one  year  went  by  before  the  king  and  empress  had  agreed 
as  to  the  object  and  the  after  results  of  the  war.  Each 
article  was  severely  examined,  and  cost  me  long  memorials 
for  the  discussion  of  matters  in  the  Council.  At  last,  when 
Comte  de  Staremberg  and  I  had  agreed,  the  totality  of  the 
work,  long  discussed  piecemeal  in  the  committees,  was 
taken  before  the  Council  of  State  and  approved  unanimously 
by  the  king  and  his  ministers.  This  great  work,  joined  to 
troubles  of  mind  and  heart  caused  by  the  attack  on  the  king 
and  the  jealousy  of  the  minister,  occasioned  me  a  nervous 
illness  the  symptoms  of  which  were  much  like  those  of  a 
violent  poison.  It  was  in  that  state  that  I  was  obliged  to 
work  day  and  night,  often  without  sleeping  fifteen  minutes 
consecutively.  I  can  say  that  I  pushed  my  zeal  for  the 
king's  affairs  almost  beyond  the  possible,  and  that  if  I  had 
not  had  the  strongest  constitution  I  could  not  have  borne 
the  life  six  months.  It  is  true  that  for  the  next  five  years 
I  felt  with  great  violence  the  effects  of  the  inward  agitation 
and  excessive  labour  to  which  I  had  been  condemned  for 
two  years.  It  was  in  the  month  of  March,  1757,  that  my 
health  suddenly  broke  down  as  if  from  a  thunderbolt ;  but  it 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  291 

was  not  until  the  following  May,  one  year  after  the  signing 
of  the  Treaty  of  Versailles,  that  our  last  agreements  with 
the  empress  were  signed  by  M.  Kouille*,  myself,  and  the 
Comte  de  Staremberg. 

Our  armies  had  crossed  the  Ehine  before  we  had  come  to 
a  settled  agreement,  so  anxious  was  the  king  to  support  his 
allies  and  give  proofs  of  his  good  faith  to  the  Court  of 
Vienna.  I  have  already  stated  that,  before  the  campaign 
began,  the  negotiation  for  neutrality  was  broken  off.  It  is 
known  that  the  King  of  Prussia,  after  a  battle  won  by  a 
miracle,  shut  up  nearly  the  whole  of  the  empress'  forces 
behind  the  walls  of  Prague.  That  army,  commanded  by 
Prince  Charles  of  Lorraine,  was  not  lacking  in  food  but  in 
powder,  to  the  point  of  having  only  forty  rounds  left  for  each 
soldier.  Marshal  Daun,  with  a  rather  weak  army,  took  up 
a  good  position,  where  the  luck  and  the  skill  of  the  King 
of  Prussia  were  both  broken,  after  having  the  advantage 
all  day  over  the  Austrians.1  Mar^chal  Daun  had  given 
orders  for  his  army  to  retire,  but  when  that  order  was  taken 
to  General  O'Donnell,  he  said  he  had  been  retreating  for 
twenty  years  and  was  tired  of  it,  and  would  do  nothing  of 
the  kind  that  day.  He  accordingly  ordered  a  charge  of 
cavalry,  which  threw  into  disorder  the  Prussian  cavalry  and 
knocked  over  the  infantry  which  had  gained  the  plateau  on 
which  Mare"chal  Daun  had  drawn  up  his  army  in  line  of 
battle.  The  King  of  Prussia  chose  his  course  like  a  great 
man,  and  Mardchal  Keith,  as  a  good  general,  raised  the  siege 
of  Prague.  The  city  was  only  slightly  injured  by  Prince 
Charles ;  and  the  Court  of  Vienna  which,  five  weeks  earlier 
had  been  nigh  to  ruin,  now  resumed  until  the  end  of  the 
campaign  an  air  of  superiority  over  the  Prussian  king. 

1  Battle  of  Kolin,  June  19, 1757 .    See  the  Prince  de  Ligne's  account  of  it, 
Vol.  V.  of  this  Historical  Series. 


292  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vtit. 

As  for  us,  as  soon  as  we  had  crossed  the  Khine  we  could 
go  no  farther,  for  want  of  waggons  and  munitions  of  war. 
Mare'chal  d'Estre*es,  against  all  my  representations  had  quar- 
relled with  Paris-Duverney,  and  he  lacked  the  things  he 
could  have  had  in  abundance  if  he  had  been  willing  to 
act  in  concert  with  that  man  of  genius.  Moreover,  the  King 
of  Prussia  by  the  evacuation  of  Wesel  had  disconcerted  the 
first  arrangement  of  our  plan  of  campaign ;  we  expected  to 
lay  siege  to  that  place,  which  would  have  lasted  at  least  six 
weeks,  during  which  time  means  could  have  been  prepared 
to  march  forward.  The  controller-general,  who  had  begun 
the  war  without  securing  the  necessary  funds  to  carry  it  on 
and  pay  our  subsidies,  found  himself  embarrassed  at  the  out- 
set. The  war  in  America  was  ruinous  ;  every  vessel  brought 
letters  of  exchange,  to  pay  which  drained  the  royal  treasury. 

We  admired  in  France  the  skill  of  the  King  of  Prussia  in 
withdrawing  his  troops  from  Wesel  to  increase  his  own  army, 
and  in  taking  his  artillery  to  Holland.  It  was  said  that  in 
that  way  he  secured  the  fidelity  of  the  King  of  England, 
Elector  of  Hanover,  by  leaving  that  State  open  to  an  army  of 
one  hundred  thousand  Frenchmen  and  twenty  thousand 
Germans  in  our  pay;  also  that  the  garrison  he  had  in 
Wesel  would  certainly  have  been  made  prisoners  of  war; 
and  there  were  other  reflections  equally  specious  and  frivo- 
lous. For  my  part,  I  have  always  considered  the  evacu- 
ation of  Wesel  as  a  great  blunder  on  the  part  of  the  King  of 
Prussia,  who  does  not  make  many,  but,  on  his  own  showing, 
does  make  some.  The  siege  of  Wesel  left  him  at  liberty  to 
fight  the  army  of  the  empress  without  the  possibility  of  a 
diversion  in  her  favour  by  us ;  in  the  second  place,  if  the 
King  of  Prussia  wanted  his  national  troops  in  his  own  army, 
he  could  have  put  into  Wesel  six  thousand  Hessians  and  as 
many  Hanoverians  and  Brunswick  men,  and  still  have  left 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  293 

thirty  thousand  with  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  to  harass  us 
in  our  siege ;  in  the  third  place,  the  King  of  Prussia  could 
not  have  divined  that  the  spring  of  1757  would  not  be  rainy 
and  that  the  Khine  would  not  overflow ;  he  ought  to  have 
calculated  on  all  the  accidents  of  season  and  rivers,  and  have 
counted  on  our  army  contracting  diseases  during  the  siege 
which  would  reduce  it  by  a  third  during  the  campaign ;  in 
the  fourth  place,  the  occupation  of  Wesel  by  our  troops  could 
alone  prevent  Holland  from  taking  sides  with  our  enemies. 
Was  it  wise  in  the  King  of  Prussia  to  put,  by  the  evacuation 
of  that  place,  that  power  into  the  position  of  forced  neutral- 
ity ?  Moreover,  why  give  us  a  depot  and  a  base  of  supplies 
like  Wesel  ?  We  have  seen  since  how  important  that  place 
has  been  for  us  and  for  the  safety  of  our  Ehenish  allies.  It 
may  be  said  that  Wesel  could  not  be  defended  for  more 
than  six  weeks,  or  two  months  at  the  most.  I  agree  to  that ; 
but  the  whole  campaign  would  have  been  taken  up  in  re- 
ducing the  fortress  and  in  making  preparations  to  enter  the 
Electorate  of  Hanover,  and  the  King  of  Prussia  needed  dur- 
ing that  first  campaign  to  make  us  lose  a  great  deal  of  time. 
Before  the  exile  of  M.  d'Argenson,  a  memorial  had  been 
composed  containing  a  full  plan  of  the  war;  all  blunders 
were  noted ;  all  failures  of  precaution,  such  as  had  often  made 
French  enterprises  fail  outside  of  our  own  frontier,  were 
pointed  out ;  in  this  memorial  the  best  principles  were  laid 
down  and  the  wisest  precautions  were  scrupulously  detailed. 
The  king  gave  to  this  memorial  his  approbation  and  his 
authority.  It  may  be  said  that  during  the  first  two  campaigns 
pains  were  taken  to  reverse  all  the  principles  of  conduct  de- 
veloped in  that  memorial.  They  avoided  none  of  the  blun- 
ders there  foreseen;  they  employed  none  of  the  resources 
indicated  to  repair  them.  It  really  seemed  in  this  continental 
war  that  we  were  corrupted  by  the  money  of  the  King  of 


294  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  vm. 

Prussia  to  ruin  our  own  affairs  and  promote  his,  and  that 
the  English  ministers  were  governing  our  navy  to  destroy  it. 

Nevertheless,  the  whole  nation,  which  had  applauded  the 
Treaty  of  Versailles,  because  it  had  foolishly  thought  that 
treaty  would  give  us  peace,  now  uttered  loud  cries  against 
the  war  that  we  were  carrying  into  Germany.  The  ministry 
were  accused  of  madness,  of  crushing  France  for  the  sake  of 
a  Court  which  had  been  our  enemy  for  three  hundred  years. 
No  one  considered  what  the  state  of  Italy  would  be  on  the 
death  of  King  Ferdinand  of  Spain  (who  did  in  fact  die  at 
the  close  of  1758)  ;  they  had  forgotten  that  the  Peace  of 
Aix-la-Chapelle  had  left  defenceless  the  Infant  Don  Philip, 
whose  States  of  Parma  would  be  divided  between  the  Court 
of  Vienna  and  the  King  of  Sardinia ;  no  one  chose  to  re- 
member that  the  King  of  Naples  had  refused  to  accede  to 
the  Treaty  of  Vienna,  and  that,  without  the  alliance  of 
France  and  the  empress,  he  could  not  have  disposed  tranquilly 
and  freely,  as  he  did,  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Two  Sicilies  in 
favour  of  a  younger  son,  against  the  customs  and  laws  of 
that  country.  All  these  things  were  seen  to  take  place 
without  the  public  of  France  deigning  to  perceive  that  every 
one  of  these  points  had  been  agreed  upon  in  advance  by  the 
Treaty  of  Versailles. 

Men  have  concealed  from  themselves  the  danger  that 
France  would  have  run,  lacking  money,  generals,  and  above 
all  a  Council,  if  the  empress,  following  her  former  errors,  had 
made  herself  the  ally  of  England  and  of  the  Empress  of 
Kussia ;  we  should  have  had  the  King  of  Prussia  on  our  side 
just  so  long  as  it  suited  his  interests ;  the  Queen  of  Hungary 
would  have  ceded  to  him  some  district  or  some  fortress, 
and  he  would  have  left  us  a  prey  to  all  Europe  declared 
against  us. 

We  should  then  have  seen  whether,  as  they  never  ceased 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBNIS.  295 

to  say,  and  still  continue  to  say  to  this  day,  it  would  have 
been  more  advantageous  for  us  to  lose  battles  in  Flanders 
and  Italy  than  in  Hanover.  I  know  that  less  money  would 
have  gone  out  of  our  treasury  if  the  war  could  have  been 
fought  on  our  frontiers ;  but  we  should  have  lost  provinces ; 
beaten  by  the  Hanoverians  should  we  have  been  less  beaten 
by  the  imperial  troops  ?  I  know  that  an  army  has  resources 
in  its  own  land  and  among  its  own  fortresses ;  but  I  also 
know  that  it  is  far  better  that  the  devastations  of  war  should 
be  beyond  the  frontiers  rather  than  within  them.  With 
economy,  with  commerce  and  good  administration  one  can 
always  bring  back  in  a  short  time  money  spent  in  foreign 
parts;  but  one  cannot  rebuild  burned  villages  nor  replant 
great  forests  in  a  day.  It  is  madness  to  wish  to  have  war  in 
one's  own  country  when  we  can,  with  wise  precautions,  carry 
it  usefully  into  that  of  our  enemies  or  neighbours.  It  was 
through  lack  of  prudence,  foresight,  and  economy  that  we 
were  unable  to  subsist  in  foreign  lands.  If  we  had  secured 
our  rears  in  marching,  provisioned  the  rivers  behind  us,  for- 
tified our  posts,  abandoned  at  the  end  of  each  campaign  the 
territory  we  could  not  hold  with  military  force  during  the 
winter,  our  misfortunes  would  not  have  happened,  or  at  least 
they  could  have  been  prevented ;  it  really  seems  as  if  we  had 
courted  them  from  sheer  heedlessness. 


296  MEMOIES  AND  LETTERS  OF  [cBiP.  ix. 


IX. 


1767.  —  The  Comte  de  Stainville  and  the  Embassy  at  Vienna.  — My  Ap- 
pointment to  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs.  —  Intrigues  to  remove 
Marshal  d'Estre'es  from  the  command  of  the  army.— Negotiations  of 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland  with  Mare'chal  de  Richelieu;  of  the  King 
of  Prussia  with  the  same,  and  the  Margravine  of  Bayreuth  with  me. 

M.  KouiLLri,  always  vehemently  opposed  from  jealousy 
to  the  king's  new  system,  did  everything  possible  to  send  as 
ambassador  to  Vienna  the  Comte  de  Broglie,  who,  although 
he  had  much  intelligence,  did  not  perceive  that  M.  Kouilld 
had  only  the  name  and  title  of  minister,  and  that  the  ap- 
pointment to  Vienna  belonged  rather  to  Mme.  de  Pom- 
padour (with  whom  M.  de  Broglie  was  not  on  good  terms) 
than  to  any  one  else ;  also  I  was  likely  to  influence  it,  and 
I  knew  that  he  was  not  in  favour  of  the  alliance,  and  that 
to  please  the  dauphine,  he  was  flattering  her  with  a  chimer- 
ical project  of  making  the  kingdom  of  Poland  hereditary  in 
the  House  of  Saxony.  Mme.  de  Pompadour  was  thinking 
only  of  giving  this  important  embassy  to  the  Comte 
de  Stainville. 

I  have  mentioned  heretofore  the  obligations  that  she 
thought  she  was  under  to  him,  and  the  violent  passion 
which  she  believed  he  felt  for  her,  —  a  powerful  agent  on  the 
mind  of  a  woman  who  pushed  the  admiration  of  her  own 
face  to  the  verge  of  absurdity.  It  was  very  important  for 
Madame  Infanta  to  have  a  friend  in  the  ambassador  whom 
the  king  would  appoint  to  the  Court  of  Vienna.  The  Comte 
de  Stainville  (since  Due  de  Choiseul),  who  has  never  wanted 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  297 

for  cleverness  and  ability,  passed  through  Parma  on  return- 
ing from  Kome,  and  did  so  well  with  Madame  Infanta  that 
she  asked  the  king  to  give  him  the  embassy  to  Vienna ;  she 
also  asked  it,  with  even  more  eagerness,  of  the  marquise 
and  of  me.  I  should  therefore  have  opposed  the  appoint- 
ment in  vain;  Madame  de  Pompadour  was  bent  upon  it; 
Madame  Infanta  still  more  so;  I  should  have  displeased 
both  by  opposing  it,  and  have  done  so  without  success. 
Moreover,  it  would  have  forced  me  to  declare  myself  against 
M.  de  Stainville  without  apparent  reasons ;  the  jealousy  he 
had  slightly  shown  me  when  I  was  appointed  to  the  embassy 
in  Spam,  and  the  little  approbation  he  had  secretly  given 
to  the  Treaty  of  Versailles  were  certainly  not  sufficient 
reasons  to  exclude  the  friend  of  the  marquise  and  the  de- 
clared servitor  of  Madame  Infanta.  Besides,  by  putting 
aside  the  Comte  de  Stainville  the  appointment  of  M.  de 
Broglie,  who  was  urged  by  the  dauphine  and  was  openly 
opposed  to  the  alliance  with  Vienna,  would  certainly  take 
place ;  the  Comte  de  Broglie  in  sustaining  M.  Kouill£  in  the 
ministry  was  coveting  his  office;  the  embassy  to  Vienna 
was  the  best  ladder  to  it. 

I  took  the  course  of  letting  the  appointment  be  made  as 
the  marquise  wished,  and  of  being  useful  to  the  Comte  de 
Stainville  so  long  as  he  continued  to  serve  the  king  well. 
His  enemies  hastened  to  let  me  know  the  danger  I  ran  in 
associating  with  public  affairs  a  man  of  his  birth,  enter- 
prising, bold,  ambitious,  and  adroit.  Eesolved  as  I  was  to 
quit  the  Court  and  offices  when  the  king  wished,  and  when- 
ever I  saw  I  could  no  longer  play  a  useful  and  proper  part,  I 
was  not  alarmed  by  the  danger  they  pointed  out  to  me  and 
on  which  I  had  already  reflected.  The  Comte  de  Stainville 
arrived  in  Paris  and  soon  carried  the  day  over  his  rival 
the  Comte  de  Broglie. 


29$  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  ix. 

I  knew,  a  few  days  after  his  arrival,  that  the  Mare*chal  de 
Luxembourg,  having  related  to  him  the  confidence  that  the 
marquise  had  in  me  and  the  preference  she  gave  me  over 
not  only  the  ministers  but  her  own  friends,  the  Comte  de 
Stainville  answered :  "  Oh !  as  for  him,  he  does  not  trouble 
me;  I  can  ruin  him  with  her  whenever  I  choose."  All 
these  germs  of  ill-will  were  wrapped  in  a  conduct  so  frank 
with  me,  so  decisive  for  the  political  system  of  the  king,  that 
I  had  no  difficulty  in  forgiving  the  secret  sentiments  I  had 
reason  to  suspect  in  him.  I  attributed  them  to  the  jealousy 
I  excited  almost  universally;  and  as  my  ambition  turned 
to  the  side  of  acquiring  reputation  rather  than  fortune  or 
place,  and  as,  moreover  the  Comte  de  Stainville  was  all  the 
more  suited  to  fill  the  embassy  to  Vienna  because  he  had  in 
his  character  a  very  necessary  decision  which  would  soon 
put  an  end  to  the  formalities  and  delays  of  M.  de  Kaunitz, 
I  paid  less  attention  to  my  own  interests  than  to  those 
of 'the  king. 

M.  de  Stainville  soon  saw,  by  the  confidence  with  which 
the  king  honoured  me  and  by  that  which  the  marquise  gave 
me,  that  the  safest  way  for  him,  and  also  the  most  useful, 
was  not  to  thwart  my  good  fortune,  but  to  give  himself  the 
merit  in  my  mind  of  contributing  to  it.  He  understood  my 
character ;  he  knew  with  what  good  faith  I  would  do  justice 
to  his  talents  and  make  known  his  services  to  the  Council 
He  made  his  plan  to  advance  his  fortunes  by  raising  mine 
and  in  working  to  secure  it ;  if  circumstances  changed  he 
thought  himself  in  a  position  to  destroy  it  by  the  same  means 
with  which  he  had  raised  it.  It  will  be  seen  how  faithful 
he  was  to  this  system,  and  how  much  good  faith  and  honour 
I  put  into  my  conduct  towards  him. 

When  I  entered  the  council  I  had  made  Mme.  de  Pom- 
padour promise  that  never  should  there  be  any  question 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  299 

of  giving  me  a  department.  I  feared  the  dangers ;  I  knew 
that  I  should  be  responsible  to  the  public  for  events  as  soon 
as  I  had  the  acknowledged  direction  of  affairs;  that  the 
king  could  not  check  the  jealousies  nor  the  intrigues  of  the 
other  secretaries  of  State.  I  knew,  moreover,  that  I  risked 
quarrels  with  the  marquise  as  soon  as  I  was  charged  with 
the  ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs ;  that  she  would  want  to 
appoint  all  ambassadors ;  that  she  would  write  from  her 
own  cabinet  directly  to  them;  and  that  if  my  opinions  on 
public  affairs  became  different  from  hers  I  was  not  a  man 
to  sacrifice  to  her  wishes  either  the  good  of  the  State  or 
my  own  reputation.  I  could  avoid  these  dangers  only  by 
keeping  the  place  I  now  occupied  in  the  Council  without  a 
department ;  all  I  needed  was  that  they  should  put  in 
M.  EouilM's  place  a  minister  more  capable  and  less  jealous. 
Besides  which,  my  health  since  the  month  of  March,  1757, 
was  much  shaken;  I  was  not  without  uneasiness  about 
poison,  for  I  saw,  both  without  and  within,  many  powerful 
reasons  for  fearing  it.  It  will  be  seen  how  it  became  im- 
possible for  me  to  escape  the  department  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
and  to  whom  I  owed  that  fatal  obligation. 

I  was  charged  with  drawing  up  the  instructions  for 
M.  de  Stain ville ;  I  read  them  to  the  Council,  and  the  dau- 
phin, to  whom  the  king,  ever  since  his  entrance  to  the 
Council,  had  ordered  me  to  explain  all  that  had  passed  between 
our  Court  and  that  of  Vienna,  seemed  much  struck  with 
the  clearness  and  propriety  of  those  instructions. 

I  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to  relate  by  itself  all 
that  concerns  the  dauphin  during  the  period  of  my  min- 
istry. I  shall  only  remark  here  that  I  never  went  to  the 
prince  unless  sent  by  the  king,  and  that  his  Majesty  always 
asked  me  how  long  a  time  my  conversation  with  his  son 
had  lasted.  The  special  kindness  with  which  the  royal 


300  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  ix. 

family  honoured  me  contributed  not  a  little  to  increase 
the  jealousy  of  the  courtiers,  and  to  cause  uneasiness  to 
the  marquise ;  I  shall  speak  of  this  more  fully  in  the  sequel 

The  Comte  de  Stainville  had  too  much  intelligence  not 
to  feel  the  impropriety  of  his  being  under  the  orders  of  a 
minister  of  ill-intentions  towards  the  success  of  the  affairs 
with  which  he  was  charged ;  he  did  not  wish  to  run  the  risk 
of  compromising  himself  under  the  instructions  of  M.  EcuiUe* ; 
on  the  one  hand,  he  believed  he  did  an  agreeable  thing  to 
the  marquise  in  forcing  M.  Eouille'  to  retire,  a  useful  thing 
to  the  king's  new  system  by  putting  me  at  the  head  of  af- 
fairs, and  a  useful  thing  for  himself,  by  having  the  air  of 
doing  me  a  service,  —  I  say  having  the  air,  because  if  I 
had  desired  that  place  it  would  have  offered  itself  to  me. 

The  means  which  he  took  to  carry  out  his  object  were 
singular,  and  picture  very  correctly  the  character  of  his  mind. 
He  requested  Mme.  de  Pompadour  to  entreat  the  king  to 
allow  him  to  resign  the  embassy  to  Vienna,  and  grant  him 
for  all  favour  the  right  to  be  employed  in  the  army  hi  his 
rank,  which  was  that  of  a  brigadier.  At  first  Mme.  de  Pom- 
padour thought  this  a  joke,  and  later,  that  M.  de  Stainville 
had  gone  mad ;  but  when  she  found  that  he  was  serious  she 
was  amazed ;  he  was  actually  renouncing  fifty  thousand 
crowns  in  salaries,  a  position  of  the  highest  honour,  and  clos- 
ing the  door  to  a  brilliant  and  almost  certain  fortune. 

He  had  no  difficulty  in  making  it  felt  that  in  renouncing 
these  advantages  he  meant  to  show  how  dangerous  it  would 
be  for  him  to  serve  the  king  at  Vienna,  in  circumstances  so 
critical  and  delicate,  under  an  ill-intentioned  and  absolutely 
incapable  minister ;  he  made  it  understood  that  his  reputa- 
tion was  dearer  to  him  than  all  else,  and  he  had  no  difficulty 
hi  convincing  the  marquise  of  the  truth  of  what  he  said. 
"  But,"  she  objected,  "  M,  EouilM  is  dying ;  he  sleeps  at  the 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BEBN1S.  301 

Council  and  in  his  own  cabinet ;  we  have  only  to  wait  for  an 
apoplexy ;  that  will  deliver  us  ;  the  king  does  not  want  to 
be  the  homicide  of  an  incapable  but  honest  man  by  dis- 
placing him.  If  he  would  only  displace  himself  the  king 
would  rejoice ;  but  Mme.  Kouille',  who  loves  the  Court,  like 
a  bourgeoise  who  was  never  made  to  be  in  it,  will  not 
allow  him  to  do  so  —  "  "  Would  it  please  you,"  interrupted 
M.  de  Stainville,  eagerly,  "  if  I  should  bring  you,  within  an 
hour,  M.  Eouille"s  resignation  ?  Will  you  have  it  ? " 

The  marquise,  while  regarding  the  scheme  as  folly,  con- 
sented, declaring  that  she  would  gladly  induce  the  king  to 
keep  M.  EcuiUe*  in  the  Council,  and  in  his  office  of  super- 
intendent of  posts,  by  means  of  which  Mme.  Eouille*  could 
still  keep  her  little  place  at  Court. 

One  sees  by  this  on  what  ridiculous  considerations  the 
fate  of  great  affairs  does  sometimes  depend.  For  two  years 
it  had  been  necessary  to  displace  M.  Eouille',  and  yet,  from 
fear  of  vexing  his  wife,  they  preferred  to  compromise  the 
interests  of  the  greatest  powers  in  Europe ! 

The  Comte  de  Stainville  kept  his  word.  He  went  to  see 
Mme.  EoniHe*,  and  made  her  feel  that  her  present  Court 
existence  depended  on  the  preservation  of  her  husband's 
health,  and  that  that  precious  health  depended  on  his  release 
from  the  burden  of  his  ministry.  She  resisted  for  some 
time;  but  finally  she  went  down  to  see  her  husband  with 
M.  de  Stainville,  and  decided  him  to  send  in  his  resignation ; 
which  news  the  comte  brought  back  in  triumph  to  the 
marquise,  who  received  it  with  as  much  surprise  as  joy.  It 
must  be  owned  that  nothing  could  be  more  unscrupulous 
than  this  action  of  the  Comte  de  Stainville,  nor  more 
adroit. 

I  was  summoned  to  Versailles  (the  derangement  of  my 
health  having  detained  me  for  several  days  in  Paris),  and 


302  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  ix. 

the  king  forced  me  by  his  kindness  to  violate  the  oath  I 
had  made  to  myself,  never  to  take  upon  my  shoulders  the 
burden  of  a  department.  If  this  was  a  great  mistake  on  my 
part,  I  can  at  least  say  it  was  not  voluntary.  Could  I  resist 
the  king's  wish  that  I  should  accept  a  post,  the  principal 
functions  of  which  I  had  fulfilled  for  two  years  ?  My 
health  would  have  been  a  sufficient  reason  for  refusing  it,  if 
I  were  not  as  much  over-burdened  with  work  in  not  accept- 
ing it.  The  idea  of  the  greater  good  to  be  done  determined 
me ;  and  I  may  say  with  truth  that  it  was  not  the  first  time 
in  my  life  that  idea  has  won  the  day  over  my  repugnances. 

The  very  day  that  I  took  my  oath  of  office  before  the 
king,  June  29,  1757,  I  carried  to  him  the  news  of  the 
complete  victory  won  by  Mare*chal  Daun  over  the  King 
of  Prussia  at  Kolin,  and  the  deliverance  of  Prague.  After 
that  period  until  the  battle  of  Eosbach,  November  5, 1757, 
I  never  entered  the  king's  apartments  without  taking  to 
him  good  news ;  so  that  when  people  saw  me  coming  they 
used  to  cry  out :  "  Tiens  I  here  he  comes ;  he  looks  like  a 
battle  won." 

Mare*chal  d'Estre*es,  in  command  of  our  armies,  had  com- 
mitted the  great  mistake  of  not  being  willing  to  take  con- 
certed action  with  P§,ris-Duverney,  who  was  the  head  of 
the  commissary  department,  and  had  always  been  the  right 
hand  of  generals  and  ministers  of  war,  —  a  man  who,  with 
some  defects,  united  a  great  soul  to  many  ideas  and  much 
experience.  The  mare*chal  committed  another  as  great  in 
showing  jealousy  of  the  Prince  de  Soubise,  who  commanded 
the  reserve,  which  was  habitually  called  the  "  Soubise  army." 
The  Prince  de  Soubise  was  beloved  by  the  king  and  the 
marquise.  The  plan  of  the  latter,  who  believed  that  all  her 
friends  had  great  talents,  was  that  he  should  carry  off  some 
signal  advantage  which  would  put  her  in  a  position  to  ask 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BEKNIS.  303 

for  him  with  decency  the  command  of  our  armies,  and  a 
place  in  the  Council  as  military  member  of  it.  The  marquise 
thought  that  she  herself  would  find  support  in  a  man  of  the 
honour  and  worth  of  M.  de  Soubise,  a  minister  as  well  as  a 
general,  able  and  docile,  who  would  follow  her  views  and 
carry  out  her  ideas. 

Mare'chal  d'Estre'es  felt  the  role  they  wanted  this  great 
seigneur  to  play,  and,  as  he  was  neither  enduring  nor  dis- 
simulating, M.  de  Soubise  often  had  to  suffer  from  his 
temper.  The  latter  made  frequent  complaints  to  the  mar- 
quise, who  did  not  conceal  her  displeasure  at  the  conduct 
of  the  mare'chal  towards  her  favourite.  This  rendered  it 
easy  to  make  her  listen  to  and  welcome  the  complaints  of 
the  Court  of  Vienna  on  the  slowness  with  which  Mare'chal 
d'Estre'es  was  proceeding  on  the  Lower  Rhine.  It  is  certain 
that  he  lacked  many  things  before  starting ;  but  it  was  not 
understood  why,  with  so  large  a  force  under  his  command, 
he  did  not  advance  with  more  vigour  on  the  Duke  of  Cum- 
berland, who  commanded  an  army  much  inferior  to  his 
own. 

Mare'chal  de  Eichelieu,  who  had  uttered  loud  cries  when 
the  Comte  d'Estre'es  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the 
armies,  conceived,  although  he  had  quarrelled  with  the 
marquise,  the  bold  idea  of  supplanting  him.  The  Comte  de 
Maillebois,  quartermaster-general  of  the  army  in  Germany, 
entered  into  his  views,  as  did  M.  de  Cre*milles,  lieutenant- 
general,  a  weak,  ambitious,  and  timid  m^n,  who  wanted  the 
first  places,  but  feared  his  own  power  to  maintain  them. 
The  mare*chal  had  always  had  the  confidence  of  M.  d'Argen- 
son,  and  now  had  that  of  M.  de  Paulmy  (his  uncle's  suc- 
cessor), and  still  more  that  of  Paris-Duverney,  who,  since 
the  deaths  of  Mare'chal  de  Saxe  and  Mare'chal  de  Lowendahl, 
and  the  capture  of  Minorca,  had  taken  it  into  his  head  that 


304  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  i±. 

the  Marshal  de  Eichelieu  was  as  great  a  warrior  as  he  was 
a  courtier  and  man  of  intrigue.  M.  Duverney,  sensitive  to 
the  affronts  put  upon  him  by  Mare'chal  d'Estre*es,  profited  by 
the  complaints  of  the  Court  of  Vienna,  and  the  vexation 
of  the  marquise  at  the  proceedings  of  the  general  towards 
M.  de  Soubise.  He  wrote  a  memorial,  which  was  strongly 
approved  by  MM.  de  Eichelieu,  de  Maillebois,  de  Cre'milles, 
and  de  Paulmy.  Forty  thousand  more  men  were  sent  to 
Germany  under  Marechal  de  Eichelieu,  who  went  there 
with  orders  to  command  the  army,  and  to  command  Mare'- 
chal d'Estre*es,  if  he  were  willing  to  put  himself  under  his 
orders.  By  this  new  plan,  the  Prince  de  Soubise  was  given 
a  corps  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  thousand  men,  who  were 
to  act  immediately  in  Saxony,  keep  the  King  of  Prussia 
delayed  there  without  risking  a  battle,  and  so  give  time 
to  the  Austrians  to  seize  Silesia,  where,  in  spite  of  our 
desires,  they  wished  to  establish  the  theatre  of  war,  instead 
of  placing  it  on  the  Elbe,  where  the  mass  of  our  forces  could 
have  supported  them  and  rendered  possible  the  siege  of 
Magdeburg,  while  the  Swedes  and  Eussians  would  lay  siege 
to  Stettin-on-the  Oder. 

I  shall  say  here,  in  passing,  that  the  Eussians  could  never 
be  induced  to  quit  the  frontiers  of  Poland,  nor  the  Austrians 
the  frontiers  of  Silesia.  The  taking  of  Magdeburg  and 
Stettin  would  have  taken  from  the  King  of  Prussia  the  Elbe 
and  the  Oder,  the  resources  of  his  hereditary  States.  Silesia 
would  have  fallen  of  herself  on  the  day  this  double  object 
was  obtained;  but  Providence  did  not  permit  the  carrying 
out  of  these  sound  views.  It  must  also  be  admitted  that 
our  own  blunders  aided  the  obstinacy  of  our  allies  in  making 
us  all  miss  the  principal  aim  and  purpose  of  the  war. 

To  return  to  the  new  plan  of  campaign  devised  by  M. 
Duverney.  It  must  be  allowed  that  if  the  Prince  de  Soubise 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  305 

had  been  the  Marechal  de  Saxe,  and  if,  instead  of  giving  him 
an  army  composed  of  troops  from  the  Cercles,  they  had  given 
him  forty  thousand  men  drawn  from  the  grand-army  (which 
would  still  have  been  strong  enough  with  sixty  thousand  to 
defeat  the  Due  of  Cumberland  and  take  possession  of  the 
Electorate  of  Hanover), —  we  must,  I  say,  allow  that  if  the 
troops  of  the  Empire  had  been  kept  to  guard  our  communi- 
cations, and  if  our  army  in  Westphalia  had  been  well  in  con- 
cert with  the  army  sent  to  Saxony,  the  plan  would  have  been 
as  fruitful  in  results  as  it  was  judicious.  It  would  not  have 
resulted,  as  PSris-Duverney  said  prophetically,  in  bringing 
the  war  to  an  end  in  one  campaign,  but  it  gave  reason  to 
expect  (especially  after  the  taking  of  Chemnitz  and  the  vic- 
tory at  Breslau  by  the  Austrians,  November,  1757)  that  the 
King  of  Prussia  would  have  lacked  resources  to  continue  the 
war,  and  that  Magdeburg  and  Stettin  would  have  fallen  into 
our  hands  and  those  of  our  allies  in  the  second  campaign, 
which  would  have  ended  the  war  gloriously  and  infallibly. 

But  it  was  madness  to  strip  the  kingdom  of  our  troops,  to 
expose  our  coasts  to  invasion  from  England  and  the  country 
to  uprisings  of  the  religionaries ;  it  was  even  greater  folly  to 
send  the  Prince  de  Soubise,  known  only  as  an  honest  man 
full  of  generosity  and  nobleness,  to  measure  himself,  in  his 
apprenticeship,  against  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  to  imagine 
that  Marshal  de  Eichelieu  would  be  willing  to  aid  in  mak- 
ing the  military  reputation  of  M.  de  Soubise,  with  the  cer- 
tainty that  if  it  were  made  by  the  winning  of  a  battle  the 
prince  would  supersede  him  in  the  command  of  the  armies 
—  which  was  certain  through  the  king's  liking  for  the  prince 
and  the  passion  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour  to  see  her  "  dear 
Soubise  "  at  the  head  of  the  army  and  the  Council. 

Paris-Duverney  was  blinded  by  the  hatred  he  had  to  Ma- 
re* chal  d'Estre*es,  by  the  unreflecting  enthusiasm  which  the 

VOL.  I.  — 20 


306  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  IX. 

taking  of  Minorca  had  inspired  in  him  for  Mardchal  de  Kiche- 
lieu,  whose  bravery  and  audacity  made  Duverney  conceive 
the  highest  hopes.  He  knew  that  the  king  would  never 
willingly  displace  Mare*chal  d'Estre*es,  whom  he  liked,  to  sub- 
stitute Marshal  de  Kichelieu,  whom  he  no  longer  liked  but 
feared  for  his  intrigues  and  his  ambition.  In  consequence 
of  this,  Duverney  bethought  him  of  proposing  the  Prince  de 
Soubise  for  the  command  of  the  army  in  Saxony,  feeling 
well  assured  that  the  marquise  would  sacrifice  her  hatred  to 
M.  de  Kichelieu  if,  by  giving  him  command  of  the  grand- 
army,  that  of  Saxony  could  be  secured  for  M.  de  Soubise,  and 
that  with  this  last  expectation  she  would  bring  the  king  to 
agree  to  the  displacement  of  Mare*chal  d'Estre*es.  All  Du- 
verney 's  conjectures  in  regard  to  this  proved  sound. 

The  Comte  de  Maillebois  saw  in  the  distance,  as  if  assured 
of  it,  the  future  disagreement  of  MM.  de  Kichelieu  and  de 
Soubise,  and,  Mare*chal  d'Estre*es  once  dismissed,  he  reckoned 
on  M.  de  Soubise  being  ruined  by  his  inexperience,  M.  de 
Kichelieu  by  his  eagerness  for  getting  money  and  conducting 
the  army  as  he  pleased,  but  especially  on  the  hatred  Mme. 
de  Pompadour  had  vowed  to  the  mare*chal  since  his  late  in- 
trigues at  the  time  of  the  king's  attempted  assassination. 
All  these  rivals  set  aside,  the  Comte  de  Maillebois,  brother- 
in-law  of  M.  de  Paulmy,  minister  of  war,  and  quartermaster- 
general  of  the  grand-army,  flattered  himself,  not  without 
reason,  that  in  spite  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour's  repugnance  to 
him,  they  would  be  forced  to  give  him  the  command  of  the 
armies ;  he  did  not  foresee  then  that  the  Due  de  Broglie,  by 
distinguished  actions,  would  snatch  it  from  him,  nor  that  he 
himself  would  alienate  his  chance  by  the  imprudence  of  his 
conduct. 

The  above  is  the  mot  d'enigme  of  the  campaign  of  1757, 
and  almost  that  of  the  whole  war,  for  the  same  intrigues  and 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  307 

the  same  personal  aims  thwarted  all  the  operations  of  our 
armies. 

Piiris-Duverney,  having  drawn  up  his  plan  of  campaign, 
agreed  with  the  parties  interested  that  I  should  ask  the  king 
for  an  audience,  at  which  Duverney  should  read  his  memorial 
in  presence  of  his  Majesty,  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  and  M.  de 
Paulmy  only ;  it  was  agreed  that  I  should  not  know  its  con- 
tents for  three  weeks.  They  feared  that  the  Mare*chal  de 
Belleisle,  a  friend  of  the  Mare*chal  d'Estre*es  and  an  old  en- 
emy of  M.  de  Eichelieu,  might  fetter  the  project ;  for  this 
reason  it  was  settled  that  I  should  not  be  informed  of  it 
until  the  plan  had  been  adopted  by  the  king,  and  Mare*chal 
de  Eichelieu  had,  through  a  reconciliation  with  Mme.  de 
Pompadour,  induced  her  to  obtain  for  him  the  command  of 
the  grand-army  and  for  M.  de  Soubise  that  of  the  little  army 
in  Saxony. 

It  is  incredible  that  such  an  intrigue  should  have  suc- 
ceeded as  it  did,  and  that  the  king  should  have  allowed 
them  to  make  a  mystery  to  me  of  an  operation  which  was 
to  put  another  face  on  the  affairs  of  Europe  with  which  I 
was  charged ;  I  could  not  myself  believe  it  if  I  had  not  been 
an  ocular  witness  of  the  manoeuvre.  The  king,  to  whom  I 
announced  Duverney's  memorial,  telling  him  that  I  was  not 
to  know  of  its  contents  for  three  weeks,  joked  me  about  it. 
I  made  him  remark  that  when  his  Majesty  knew  the  con- 
tents himself  he  would  inform  me  of  them  if,  in  his  opin- 
ion, it  was  necessary  for  his  affairs  that  I  should  know  them 
earlier. 

M.  de  Paulmy  was  won  to  the  scheme  by  his  brother-in- 
law,  M.  de  Maillebois.  It  was,  therefore,  not  difficult  for 
P§ris-Duverney,  who  has  both  ardour  and  eloquence,  to  make 
Mme.  de  Pompadour  admire  a  plan  which  gave  a  fine  r61e  to 
the  Prince  de  Soubise,  and  got  rid  of  the  Mare'chal  d'Estrfe, 


308  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  ix. 

whom  she  now  could  not  endure,  although  it  placed  at 
the  head  of  the  armies  M.  de  Kichelieu,  whom  she  disliked. 
But  she  was  so  confident  that  M.  de  Soubise  would  beat 
the  King  of  Prussia,  and  that  this  success  would  make  him 
a  marshal  of  France,  that  she  consented  to  the  choice 
of  M.  de  Eichelieu  in  the  hope  that  M.  de  Soubise  would 
take  his  place  in  the  next  campaign ;  friendship  carried  the 
day  over  hatred  in  her  heart.  Thus  was  decided  the  greatest 
and  then  most  important  affair  for  France  and  for  Europe. 

Mare'chal  de  Eichelieu  pretended  at  first  great  reluctance 
to  make  advances  to  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  but  finally  con- 
sented. All  went  well  at  the  interview.  The  mare'chal 
justified  himself,  and  the  marquise  simulated  sentiments  that 
were  not  in  her  heart.  It  was  agreed  that  excellent  troops 
should  be  given  to  M.  de  Soubise ;  but  after  the  mare'chal 
was  appointed  commander-in-chief  of  the  whole  army  I  had 
great  difficulty  in  making  him  cede  to  M.  de  Soubise  a  single 
old  and  tried  regiment ;  so  that  before  he  started  for  the 
army  he  had  already  partly  quarrelled  with  the  marquise 
and  shown  coldness  to  M.  de  Soubise,  so  little  master  was  he 
of  concealing  his  jealousy  of  that  favourite  of  the  king. 

After  the  interview  of  Mare'chal  de  Kichelieu  with  Mme. 
de  Pompadour,  M.  Duverney  communicated  to  me  his  memo- 
rial in  presence  of  the  Marquis  de  Paulmy,  the  mare'chal 
de  Belleisle,  and  M.  de  Cre*milles.  It  was  earlier  than  at 
first  proposed.  I  was  not  dazzled  by  what  was  specious 
in  the  plan.  I  said  that  the  kingdom  would  be  left  a  prey 
to  invasion  by  England;  that  the  expenditures  would  be 
increased ;  and  that  the  success  of  the  plan  depended  on  the 
events  of  the  war,  the  conduct  of  the  generals,  and  partly  on 
that  of  our  allies.  They  were  not  at  all  pleased  with  me,  but 
the  resolutions  were  already  taken  and  they  could  do  without 
my  approval.  I  admit,  however,  that  I  had  a  good  opinion 


1757]  CAKDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  309 

of  the  courage  of  the  two  generals,  and  that  I  thought  Mare*- 
chal  de  Eichelieu  more  eager  for  glory  than  for  money ;  my 
only  fear  was  for  M.  de  Soubise,_thus  imprudently  confronted 
with  the  King  of  Prussia. 

Meantime  Mare'chal  de  Belleisle,  who  had  his  spies  every- 
where, knew  that  something  was  going  on  to  the  disadvantage 
of  Mare'chal  d'Estre*es,  and  that  Mare'chal  de  Eichelieu  was 
likely  to  supplant  him.  He  therefore  wrote  to  d'Estre*es  in 
these  very  words  :  "  My  dear  mare'chal,  if  you  wish  to  con- 
tinue to  command  the  king's  army,  make  haste  to  cross  the 
Weser,  give  battle,  and  win  it."  That  note  drew  Mare'chal 
d'Estre*es  from  his  lethargy  and  decided  him  to  fight  the 
battle  of  Hastembeck,  which  proved  a  victory,  though  he  be- 
lieved for  some  time  that  he  had  lost  it,  as  he  modestly  stated 
in  a  letter  he  wrote  to  the  king  after  the  affair.  This  action, 
which  was  no  great  thing  in  itself,  had  great  results,  and 
saved  to  France  the  whole  country  of  Hanover. 

Mare'chal  de  Eichelieu,  in  consequence  of  delaying  his 
departure,  did  not  arrive  until  after  the  battle  and  after  the 
city  of  Hanover  had  sent  its  keys  to  Mare'chal  d'Estre*es.  All 
Europe  was  amazed  that  after  so  considerable  a  victory  the 
command  of  the  army  was  taken  from  the  general  who  had 
won  it ;  but  Europe  was  ignorant  of  the  intrigues  of  Versailles ; 
it  did  not  know  that  six  weeks  before  the  battle  Mare'chal 
de  Eichelieu  had  already  been  substituted  for  Mare'chal 
d'Estre'es. 

It  can  be  said  that  we  have,  by  our  conduct  in  the  last 
war,  baffled  all  the  reasonings  and  all  the  judgments  of  men 
of  sense  ;  this  is  what  intrigue  leads  to ;  this  is  the  effect  of 
the  passions  of  men  and  the  infatuation  of  women. 

The  Mare'chal  de  Eichelieu  had  hardly  taken  command 
of  the  grand-army  before  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  wrote 
to  him  that  he  had  powers  from  the  king,  his  father,  to 


310  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  ix. 

negotiate  with  him  for  the  peace  of  Hanover  and  the 
neutrality  of  that  State,  or  for  a  suspension  of  arms.  The 
mare'chal  replied,  with  much  respect  and  dignity,  that 
"  the  king  had  placed  him  at  the  head  of  his  army  to  fight 
the  enemies  of  his  allies,  and  not  to  negotiate." 

This  answer  conformed  to  the  instructions  of  the  king, 
which  I  had  given  him.  In  them  he  was  formally  ordered 
to  send  to  Versailles  all  negotiations  whatsoever  which  the 
enemy  might  endeavour  to  open  with  him,  whether  on  the 
part  of  the  King  of  England  or  on  that  of  the  King  of 
Prussia  and  his  allies.  The  Mare'chal  de  Kichelieu  re- 
membered this  formal  command  on  this  occasion ;  he  forgot 
it  at  Kloster-Zeven  a  month  or  six  weeks  later.  He  might 
at  least  have  remembered  then  what  the  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land had  written  him  on  his  arrival  respecting  his  powers 
when  that  prince  declared  to  him  at  Kloster-Zeven  that  he 
had  no  powers,  but  would  despatch  a  courier  to  London  to 
obtain  them.  Of  two  things,  one :  either  the  Duke  of  Cum- 
berland did  not  tell  the  truth  when  he  first  wrote  to  the 
mare'chal,  or  he  deceived  him  at  Kloster-Zeven  in  declaring 
that  he  had  no  powers. 

A  short  time  after  the  letter  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland, 
the  King  of  Prussia  wrote  one  to  the  mare*chal  with  his  own 
hand,  very  flattering,  and  proposing  with  jests  what  he 
called  "  a  trifle,"  —  those  were  the  very  words  of  his  Prussian 
Majesty,  —  "a  bagatelle,"  a  mere  nothing :  " that  of  treating 
for  peace  with  the  conqueror  of  Port-Mahon,  the  conqueror 
of  Lower  Saxony,  the  liberator  of  Genoa ; "  adding  that  if  this 
proposal  did  not  displease  him,  he  would  send  one  of  his 
confidential  advisers  to  treat  with  him.  The  mare'chal  sent 
us  a  copy  of  his  answer,  together  with  the  original  letter  of 
the  King  of  Prussia.  He  answered  the  king,  very  suitably, 
that  he  could  only  make  wishes  for  peace,  and  could  not 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BEENIS.  311 

enter  into  any  negotiation  for  it  without  the  orders  of  the 
king  his  master. 

The  letter  of  the  King  of  Prussia  was  communicated  to 
the  Court  of  Vienna,  which  laughed,  with  good  reason,  at 
the  trap  laid  for  us  to  suspend  the  operations  of  the  campaign 
in  order  to  give  his  Prussian  Majesty  time  to  recover  from 
his  losses  at  Kolin,  and  from  various  other  checks  he  had 
received  from  time  to  time. 

Marshal  de  Richelieu  has  since  declared  that  it  depended 
on  France  only  to  make  peace  on  that  occasion ;  that  is  to 
say,  during  the  first  campaign,  and  at  a  time  when  the 
Court  of  Vienna  had  just  recovered  the  upper  hand,  when 
Russia  had  put  sixty  thousand  men  in  motion,  and  when  all 
our  allies  were  making  efforts  to  fulfil  the  obligations  of 
then:  alliance  with  the  Courts  of  Vienna  and  Saxony  !  The 
beautiful  dames  of  Paris,  over  whom  the  marechal,  old  as 
he  is,  preserves  his  rights,  may  believe  this,  but  it  is  amazing 
that  historians  and  men  of  intelligence  have  given  it  a 
thought. 

Word  was  sent  to  Mare'chal  de  Richelieu  to  reply  to  the 
King  of  Prussia  that  the  king  would  always  incline  his 
allies  to  make  peace  when  the  Empire,  Saxony,  and  the 
Court  of  Vienna  were  satisfied  respecting  the  invasions 
and  damages  they  had  suffered. 

In  spite  of  this  refusal,  and  some  time  after  the  capitula- 
tion of  Kloster-Zeven,  when  the  mare*chal  thought  proper 
to  take  the  totality  of  his  army  to  Halberstadt  in  Lower 
Saxony,  there  to  levy  contributions  and  eat  up  supplies 
which  were  intended  to  provision  our  armies  for  the  winter, 
the  King  of  Prussia,  knowing  that  Marshal  de  Richelieu 
would  be  very  glad  to  end  the  war,  and  perhaps  to  weaken 
our  union  with  the  Court  of  Vienna,  because  that  union 
strengthened  the  position  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  his  enemy. 


312  MEMOIES  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  a. 

proposed  a  suspension  of  arms  during  the  winter,  between 
the  French  and  Prussian  troops.  The  Duke  of  Brunswick 
asked  the  mare'chal  to  treat  of  this  affair;  the  latter 
refused  to  do  so,  but  permitted  the  Marquis  du  Mesnil, 
lieutenant-general,  to  hear  what  the  duke  had  to  say.  In 
fact,  among  them  they  drew  up  the  articles  of  this  extraor- 
dinary agreement;  the  mare*chal  had  it  approved  at  a 
council  of  war,  and  all  our  generals,  who  were  dying  of  a 
desire  to  get  back  to  Paris  for  the  winter,  testified  that  this 
suspension  would  be  very  useful  in  a  military  point  of  view, 
that  they  saw  nothing  in  it  that  was  not  to  our  advantage, 
but  that  it  was  for  politics  to  decide  whether  such  an 
agreement  could  be  carried  out  under  the  circumstances. 

We  made  no  mystery  to  the  Court  of  Vienna  of  this  last 
attempt  of  the  King  of  Prussia.  That  Court  had  not  been 
pleased,  neither  had  the  Swedish  Senate,  with  the  convention 
of  Kloster-Zeven,  the  coming  rupture  of  which  it  foresaw ;  it 
was  now  indignant  that  Mare'chal  de  Eichelieu  should  again 
give  ear  to  such  artifices  of  the  common  enemy.  These  were 
indeed  gross ;  for  this  new  convention  secured  the  possession 
of  Saxony  until  the  spring  to  the  King  of  Prussia ;  he  would 
then  have  led  all  his  forces  into  Silesia  to  drive  out  the  Aus- 
trians ;  and  we  should  not  have  been  more  tranquil  during  the 
winter,  inasmuch  as  the  Hanoverian  army  was  resolved  to 
break  the  treaty  of  Kloster-Zeven — for  I  can  no  longer 
call  it  a  capitulation.  By  accepting  the  proposal  of  the 
King  of  Prussia,  we  should  do  the  greatest  possible  harm 
to  the  empress-queen,  in  giving  that  monarch  the  ability 
to  assemble  all  his  forces  during  six  months  against  her; 
we  ourselves  would  have  remained  embarrassed  before  the 
Hanoverian  army,  unable  to  draw  any  profit  from  the  diver- 
sion the  army  of  M.  de  Soubise,  combining  with  that  of  the 
Empire,  was  to  make  in  Saxony. 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  313 

The  King  of  Prussia,  as  it  was,  drew  great  advantages  from 
these  parleys  between  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  and  the 
Marquis  du  Mesnil ;  he  caused  to  be  printed  the  form  of  the 
agreement  drawn  up  between  the  two  generals,  adding 
articles  which  gave  great  umbrage  to  several  of  our  allies, 
and  making  it  believed  for  a  long  time  that  we  had  signed 
them. 

While  the  King  of  Prussia  was  thus  setting  traps  for  the 
Mare*chal  de  Kichelieu,  the  Margravine  of  Bayreuth,  his 
much  loved  sister,  was  negotiating  with  me,  through  the 
channel  of  Cardinal  de  Tencin,  then  living  in  retirement  at 
Lyon,  and  not  unwilling  to  play  once  more  a  little  role  in 
the  world  before  his  death.  My  answer  to  the  margravine 
was  so  concise  and  clear  that  the  Court  of  Vienna  spread 
copies  of  it  throughout  the  Empire.  That  answer  calmed 
the  anxiety  of  our  allies,  all  the  more  alarmed  by  these 
Prussian  tentatives  because  France,  which  a  year  ago  was 
enthusiastic  over  the  Treaty  of  Versailles,  had  now  become 
Prussian ;  our  armies  were  Prussian,  several  of  our  ministers 
would  have  been  had  they  dared  to  raise  the  mask,  and  our 
alliance  with  the  Courts  of  Vienna  and  Kussia  was  more 
criticised  in  Paris  than  in  London. 

My  letter  through  Cardinal  de  Tencin  dispersed  the  um- 
brages of  our  allies.  The  margravine,  however,  was  not  re- 
pelled ;  she  sent  the  Comte  de  Mirabeau  [uncle  of  the  famous 
Mirabeau],  my  relative  and  her  chamberlain,  to  me  with  a 
letter,  which  I  refused  to  unseal  unless  he  consented  that 
after  having  read  it  I  should  place  it,  the  original  letter,  in 
the  hands  of  the  Comte  de  Staremberg,  the  ambassador  of 
the  empress.  M.  de  Mirabeau  took  the  letter  from  me  as 
soon  as  he  knew  the  use  I  should  make  of  it. 

Nothing  is  more  dangerous  in  wars  of  alliance,  especially 
when  they  first  begin,  than  to  give  ear  to  such  overtures ; 


314  MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  OF  [CHAP.  ix. 

they  usually  tend  only  to  causing  loss  of  time,  to  suspending 
military  operations,  to  sowing  jealousy  and  distrust  among 
allies.  Mare*chal  de  Eichelieu  had  too  much  intelligence 
not  to  know  how  common  and  how  easy  are  all  such  traps; 
he  therefore  had  his  reasons  for  giving  in  to  them ;  it  was 
not  because  he  was  an  enemy  to  the  Court  of  Vienna,  nor 
that  he  was  very  enthusiastic  over  the  talents  of  the  King 
of  Prussia  (as  the  whole  French  nation  now  were) ;  but  the 
more  our  alliance  with  the  empress  was  successful,  the 
more  the  influence  of  the  marquise  was  strengthened ;  he 
was  her  enemy,  and  she  was  his  enemy.  Neither  did  it 
suit  him  that  the  Prince  de  Soubise  should  play  a  great  part. 
Such  are  the  secret  motives  which  explain  the  conduct  of 
the  marechal  at  Kloster-Zeven  and  during  the  remainder  of 
the  campaign. 

To  return  to  the  period  after  the  departure  of  Mare*chal, 
d'Estre'es,  who  left  M.  de  Eichelieu  the  command  of  an  army 
which  had  just  won  a  battle  by  which  it  brought  into  sub- 
jection the  Electorate  of  Hanover.  Mare*chal  de  Kichelieu, 
instead  of  marching  directly  on  the  Duke  of  Cumberland 
amused  himself  by  receiving  in  Hanover  the  honours  of  a 
triumph  that  was  due  to  his  predecessor ;  he  gave  a  detach- 
ment to  the  Due  d'Ayen,  with  orders  to  levy  contributions 
in  the  Duchy  of  Brunswick,  and  he  thus  left  time  for  the 
Hanoverian  army  to  reach  the  camp  at  Stade.  This  camp 
was  well  fortified,  but  it  was  necessary  to  either  perish  or 
vanquish  if  forced  into  it.  The  Elbe,  very  broad  at  that 
point,  was  at  the  rear  of  the  Hanoverian  army,  and  there 
were  no  boats  to  transport  it  across  the  river  into  the  duchy 
of  Saxe-Lauenburg.  It  was  there  that  Marechal  de  Riche- 
lieu, after  having  lost  his  opportunity  to  vanquish  the  Hano- 
verian army,  resolved  to  force  it  with  an  audacity  which 
came  of  imprudence  and  temerity.  He  engaged  the  head  of 


1757]  CARDINAL  DE  BERNIS.  315 

his  own  army  in  a  swampy  region  where  it  was  impossible, 
if  it  had  rained  for  twenty-four  hours  only,  that  provisions 
or  artillery  could  reach  him.  If  the  Duke  of  Cumberland 
had  trusted  more  than  he  did  to  the  valour  of  his  troops, 
then  ill-disciplined  and  frightened,  though  two  months  later 
under  an  able  general  they  forced  us  to  evacuate  the  whole 
region  between  the  principality  of  Halberstadt  and  the 
Lower  Khine,  it  was  very  possible,  I  say,  that  the  head  of 
Mardchal  de  Kichelieu's  army  might  have  been  beaten  by 
the  Hanoverian  army  issuing  from  the  intrenchments  of 
Stade;  not  succeeding,  that  army  could  have  regained  its 
fortified  camp;  having  succeeded,  it  would  have  discon- 
certed all  our  projects. 

We  shall  presently  see  how  and  where  this   audacious 
march  of  Marshal  de  Kichelieu  ended. 


APPENDIX  I. 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  MINORCA. 

Letter  written  by  Marechal  de  Richelieu  to  the  Abbe 
Comte  de  Bernis. 

HEADQUAKTERS,  PORT-MAHON. 
May  6, 1756. 

I  DO  not  know,  monsieur,  if  you  have  yet  arrived  at  your 
embassy  in  Madrid,  and  I  fear  the  illness  which  kept  you  in  bed 
when  I  left;  though  my  last  news,  dated  April  20,  assured  me 
that  you  were  beginning  to  go  out.  I  hope  that  you  will  give 
me  news  of  yourself  as  soon  as  you  reach  Madrid;  and  that  if 
you  are  not  yet  there  the  Abbe  de  Frischmann,  who  will  open 
this  letter  in  your  absence,  will  send  them  to  me. 

Meantime  I  must  render  you  an  account  of  all  that  has  hap- 
pened to  me  since  my  departure  from  Toulon.  I  was  welcomed 
by  a  storm,  April  13th,  which  scattered  many  of  the  vessels  which 
I  had  with  me,  — 198  sail,  independently  of  ships  of  war. 
Several  were  dismasted,  others  sprang  a-leak  and  were  forced  to 
return  to  Toulon,  Marseille,  and  some  to  Corsica.  They  have  all 
rejoined,  however,  and  I  am  only  short  of  three  feluccas  laden 
with  subsistence-supplies,  one  of  which  was  captured,  as  you  will 
see  by  the  copy  of  my  letter  to  the  Marquis  de  Cayro,  herewith 
annexed. 

I  landed  on  the  18th  at  Ciutadella,  a  rather  well  fortified  town 
at  the  other  extremity  of  the  island  from  Port-Mahon,  rather  re- 
markable for  the  number  of  its  public  buildings  and  edifices.  The 
English  abandoned  it  on  the  approach  of  our  fleet  and  while  we 
were  disembarking.  They  did  the  same  at  Fournel,  where  there 
is  a  rather  considerable  harbour,  defended  by  a  very  well  fortified 
fort,  of  which  I  took  possession  next  morning.  Having  learned 


318  APPENDIX  I. 

that  the  enemy  on  retreating  was  beginning  to  do  damage,  I  imme- 
diately marched  twenty-four  companies  of  grenadiers,  supported 
by  a  brigade  of  infantry,  commanded  by  the  Marquis  du  Mesnil, 
lieutenant-general,  who  drove  back  the  enemy  and  camped  at 
Mercadal,  which  is  about  the  centre  of  the  island.  I  joined  him 
the  day  after  with  the  rest  of  the  army  and  sent  on  the  Prince 
de  Beauvau  with  all  the  grenadiers  to  seize  this  place  (Port- 
Mahon)  and  take  up  a  position  around  the  fortress  of  Saint-Philip, 
where  I  camped  myself  with  the  whole  army  on  the  following 
day. 

I  have  been  busy  since  then  in  landing  the  immense  quantity 
of  supplies  necessary  for  the  commissariat  and  the  artillery  in 
taking  so  considerable  a  fortress ;  and  as  on  this  island  they  never 
saw  a  cart,  and  the  mules  are  very  small  and  too  puny  to  drag 
artillery,  I  have  had  to  use  the  oxen  I  brought  with  me,  and 
soldiers,  to  drag  my  numerous  and  weighty  baggage ;  consequently 
it  is  easy  to  see  the  time  it  has  taken  me  to  collect  my  gabions, 
fascines,  and  all  that  is  needed  before  beginning  so  important  a 
siege;  but,  finally,  with  infinite  pains  and  trouble,  all  is  now 
ready,  and  I  expect  to-morrow,  or,  at  latest,  the  day  after,  to  open 
the  trenches. 

Our  squadron  blockades  the  port,  in  which  1  have  found  two 
millions  worth  of  French  property  and  vessels,  which  are  now  in 
my  power.  If  you  have  any  knowledge  of  the  plan  of  the  harbour 
you  will  see  that  it  rises  toward  the  town,  so  that  these  vessels 
were  able  to  escape  at  night  below  the  cannon  of  the  fort  and 
come  to  the  foot  of  my  terrace,  where  I  hold  them  in  safety.  I 
have  seized  Fort  Phillippet  and  the  whole  right  bank  of  the 
harbour  as  you  enter  it,  on  which  is  the  signal  tower,  where  I 
have  posted  a  battery  of  mortars  and  cannon,  which  defend  the 
entry  of  the  port  to  all  attempting  it,  except  our  own  squadron, 
which  lies  at  half-range  from  the  shore,  to  batter  all  the  works  on 
that  side  which  overlook  it. 

On  arriving  at  Ciutadella  I  sent  a  vessel  to  Majorca  with  an 
aide  of  the  quartermaster-general  of  my  army  to  inquire  of  the 
French  consul  what  means  he  would  have  to  obtain  on  that  island 
supplies  for  the  convenience  and  comfort  of  our  army,  which  may 
be  wanting  on  this  island.  I  learned  two  days  later,  by  a  vessel 


APPENDIX  I.  319 

sent  me  from  Majorca,  that  the  Marquis  de  Cayro,  captain-general 
of  that  island,  had  sent  for  our  consul  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  our 
approach,  to  pay  him  compliments  and  assure  him  that  he  had 
received  orders  from  the  Spanish  prime-minister  to  preserve  a  per- 
fect equality  between  the  English  and  ourselves,  which  it  seems 
they  mean  to  pay  us  in  compliments.  You  will  see  by  the  copy 
of  a  letter  I  have  just  written  to  M.  de  Cayro  the  subjects  on 
which  I  think  I  have  reason  to  complain,  and  the  representations 
which,  it  seems  to  me,  you  ought  to  make  about  them  to  the 
Court  of  Spain. 

It  is  for  you,  monsieur,  who  are  on  the  spot,  to  choose  the 
means  to  convey  these  complaints,  and  the  manner  of  remedying 
the  inconveniences  to  which  the  army  of  the  king  may  be  put  in 
consequence  of  such  conduct.  It  is  very  fatal  that  we  should 
meet  with  them  from  Spain  in  this  conjuncture,  from  which  she 
might  derive  an  advantage  for  herself  which  she  may  not  find 
again  in  a  hundred  years,  for  you  know  it  only  depends  on  her  to 
recover  now  an  important  portion  of  her  own  domain,  which 
would  make  her  the  arbiter  of  the  commerce  of  the  Mediterranean, 
instead  of  those  who  have  been  her  veritable  enemies  ever  since 
they  have  had  possession  of  it.  I  say  "  her  veritable  enemies  " 
because  assuredly  the  English  are  more  the  enemies  of  Spain  than 
of  us;  for  they  have  much  more  to  gain,  and  the  parts  of  her 
commerce  which  they  are  trying  to  tear  from  her  in  order  to 
attain  to  universal  despoticity  of  commerce  is  greater  in  proportion 
to  what  they  get  from  us.  ...  The  two  kings  of  France  and  Spain 
ought  to  be  united  for  the  interests  of  the  two  nations,  being 
kings  of  the  same  blood;  and  therefore,  as  you  may  say,  one; 
though  by  the  divisions  and  intrigues  of  their  Courts  they  are 
perpetually  being  drawn  away  from  the  interests  of  their  nations, 
their  houses,  and  their  glory,  to  give  profit  to  their  common 
enemies. 

It  is  a  fatality  which  true  patriots  must  ever  deplore;  and  if 
your  talents  and  your  intellect  do  not  succeed  in  putting  things 
where  they  should  be,  at  a  moment  which  seems  to  have  an 
eminent  interest,  so  clear  and  so  easy  to  satisfy,  I  see  with  grief 
that  we  may  as  well  renounce  it  forever.  You  will  give  me 
great  pleasure  if  you  will  write  me  the  situation  in  which  you 


320  APPENDIX  I. 

find  minds,  and  also  give  me  news  of  yourself,  which  you  can 
always  do  by  way  of  Barcelona. 

We  have  heard  nothing  yet  of  Admiral  Binck  [Byng]  and  his 
squadron,  with  which  he  was  said  to  he  coming.  It  appears  that 
ours,  which  is  good  and  fine  and  in  excellent  condition,  is  de- 
termined to  fight  him  unless  he  arrives  with  very  superior  forces. 
I  scarcely  dare  flatter  myself  to  reach  the  end  of  my  siege  "before 
that  event.  However,  if  this  should  happen  I  should  return  to 
France  immediately;  leaving  here  enough  troops  and  munitions 
to  prevent  the  English  from  attempting,  or  at  any  rate  succeeding 
in,  the  slightest  enterprise  against  this  island ;  which  will  be  very 
easy  to  do  for  I  myself  only  succeeded  through  their  fault  and 
the  bad  measures  they  had  taken.  .  .  . 

(Added  in  the  Duke  de  Richelieu's  own  writing.) 

The  ideas  people  had  of  this  fortress  were  so  different  from 
what  it  really  is  that  we  should  have  been  crazy  to  undertake  the 
siege  of  it  with  what  had  been  collected  for  that  purpose  before 
my  departure.  .  .  .  When  I  ordered  the  artillery  disembarked 
I  asked  how  many  days  it  would  take  to  bring  it  before  the  for- 
tress. The  commandant,  a  man  full  of  zeal  and  readiness  to  serve 
us,  said  six  months ;  to  comprehend  the  fright  this  gave  me,  I  must 
explain  that  from  Ciutadella  to  Port-Mahon  is  only  the  distance 
from  Paris  to  Fontainebleau,  and  the  road  infinitely  better  in 
all  respects.  I  had  to  find  means  to  bring  in  detail  the  munitions 
of  war,  .  .  .  and  it  was  the  soldiers  who  dragged  the  cannon 
and  the  caissons. 


APPENDIX  II. 


TREATY  AND  CONVENTIONS  OF  MAY  1,  1756. 

Convention  of  neutrality  signed  between  Her  Majesty  the 
Empress- Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia  and  His  Very 
Christian  Majesty. 

THE  differences  which  have  arisen  between  His  Very  Christian 
Majesty  and  His  Britannic  Majesty  on  the  subject  of  the  bound- 
aries of  their  respective  possessions  in  America  appearing,  more 
and  more,  to  threaten  the  public  tranquillity,  Her  Majesty  the 
Empress-Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia  and  His  Very  Christian 
Majesty,  who  desire,  equally,  the  unalterable  duration  of  the 
friendship  and  good  understanding  which  happily  exists  between 
them,  have  judged  it  proper  to  take  measures  for  that  effect. 

Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  declares  and  promises  for  this 
object,  in  the  most  solemn  and  most  obligatory  manner  possible, 
that  not  only  she  will  take  no  part,  directly  or  indirectly,  in  the 
above-named  differences,  which  do  not  concern  her  and  about 
which  she  has  made  no  pledges,  but  she  will  observe  a  perfect  and 
exact  neutrality  during  the  whole  time  that  the  war  between 
France  and  England,  occasioned  by  the  said  differences,  may  last. 

His  Very  Christian  Majesty,  on  his  side,  not  wishing  to  involve 
any  other  power  in  his  private  quarrel  with  England,  declares  and 
reciprocally  promises,  in  the  most  solemn  and  most  obligatory 
manner  possible,  that  he  will  not  attack,  nor  invade,  under  any 
pretext  or  for  any  reason  whatsoever,  the  Low  Countries,  or  other 
Kingdoms,  States  and  Provinces  under  the  dominion  of  Her 
Majesty  the  Empress-Queen;  and  that  he  will  do  her  no  harm 
either  directly  or  indirectly,  in  her  possessions  nor  in  her  rights ; 
and  Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  promises  reciprocally  in 
regard  to  the  Kingdoms,  States,  and  Provinces  of  His  Very 
Christian  Majesty. 

VOL.   I. — 21 


322  APPENDIX  II. 

This  convention  or  act  of  neutrality  shall  be  ratified  by  Her 
Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  and  His  Very  Christian  Majesty 
within  the  space  of  six  weeks,  or  sooner,  if  possible. 

In  pledge  whereof,   we,  the  undersigned,  ministers  plenipoten- 
tiary of  Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia 
and  of  His  Very  Christian  Majesty  have  signed  the  present  act 
and  have  appended  thereto  the  seal  of  our  arms. 
Done  at  Versailles  this  first  of  May,  1756. 

G.  COMTE  DE  STAREMBERG. 

A.  L.  EOUILLE. 

F.  J.  DE  PIERRE  DE  BERNIS. 

Treaty  of  defensive  union  and  friendship  signed  between  Her 
Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia  and 
His  Very  Christian  Majesty. 

In  the  name  of  the  very  holy  and  indivisible  Trinity,  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  So  be  it. 

Be  it  known  to  all  those  whom  it  may  concern  .   .  . 

Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia  has 
appointed  and  authorized  the  very  illustrious  and  very  excellent 
seigneur,  George,  Count  of  the  Holy  Eoman  Empire  Staremberg, 
councillor  of  the  supreme  aulic  council  of  the  Empire,  chamberlain 
of  Their  Imperial  Majesties,  and  their  plenipotentiary  to  His  Very 
Christian  Majesty;  and  His  Very  Christian  Majesty  in  like 
manner  appoints  and  authorizes  the  very  illustrious  and  very 
excellent  seigneurs,  Antoine-Louis  Rouille,  Comte  de  Jouy  and 
de  Fontaine-Gue'rin,  councillor  in  all  the  councils  of  his  Majesty, 
minister  and  secretary  of  State  of  his  commandments  and  finances, 
commander  and  grand-treasurer  of  his  Orders;  and  Frangois- 
Joachim  de  Pierre  de  Bernis,  Comte  de  Lyon,  Abbe-commanda- 
taire  of  the  royal  abbey  of  Saint- Arnould  of  Metz,  one  of  the 
forty  of  the  Academie  Franchise,  and  ambassador  extraordinary 
from  His  Majesty  to  His  Catholic  Majesty;  the  which,  after  duly 
communicating  to  one  another  their  full  powers  in  good  form,  of 
which  copies  are  appended  to  this  treaty,  and  after  duly  conferring 
together,  have  agreed  upon  the  following  articles :  — 

Article  I.     There  shall  be  friendship  and  sincere  and  constant 


APPENDIX  II.  323 

union  between  Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  and  His  Very 
Christian  Majesty.  .  .  . 

Art.  II.  The  Treaty  of  Westphalia  of  1648,  and  all  the 
treaties  of  peace  and  friendship  which  since  that  epoch  have  been 
concluded  and  now  exist  between  Their  said  Majesties,  and  in 
particular  the  convention  and  act  of  neutrality  signed  this  day,  are 
renewed  and  confirmed  by  the  present  treaty  in  the  best  form  and 
as  though  they  were  inserted  here  word  for  word. 

Art.  III.  Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  promises  and 
pledges  herself  to  guarantee  and  defend  all  the  kingdoms,  states, 
provinces,  and  domains  at  present  possessed  by  His  Very  Christian 
Majesty  in  Europe,  whether  by  Herself  or  by  her  heirs  and  suc- 
cessors, without  exception,  against  the  attacks  of  any  power 
whatsoever,  and  for  always ;  the  case,  nevertheless,  of  the  present 
war  between  France  and  England  solely  excepted,  conformably 
with  the  act  of  neutrality  signed  this  day. 

Art.  IV.  His  Very  Christian  Majesty  pledges  himself  to  Her 
Majesty,  the  Empress-Queen,  her  heirs  and  successors,  according 
to  the  order  of  the  pragmatic  sanction  established  in  Her  house, 
to  guarantee  and  defend  against  the  attacks  of  any  power  what- 
soever, and  for  always,  all  the  kingdoms,  states,  provinces,  and 
domains  at  present  possessed  by  Her  Majesty  in  Europe,  without 
any  exception. 

Art.  V.  In  consequence  of  this  reciprocal  guarantee,  the  high 
contracting  powers  will  always  work  in  concert  for  whatever 
measures  may  seem  to  them  most  proper  for  the  maintenance  of 
peace ;  and,  in  the  event  of  the  States  of  either  one  of  them  being 
threatened  with  invasion,  they  will  employ  their  good  and  most 
efficacious  offices  to  prevent  it. 

Art.  VI.  But  as  these  good  offices  which  they  here  promise 
to  each  other  may  not  have  the  desired  effect,  Their  said  Majesties 
oblige  themselves  from  the  present  moment  to  succour  each  other 
mutually  with  a  body  of  twenty-four  thousand  men,  in  case  one 
or  the  other  of  them  be  attacked,  by  whomsoever  it  be,  and  under 
whatsoever  pretext  it  may  be;  the  present  war  between  France 
and  England  on  the  subject  of  America  solely  excepted,  as  was  said 
in  Article  III  of  the  present  treaty. 

Art.  VII.     The  said  succour  shall  be  composed  of  eighteen 


324  APPENDIX  n. 

thousand  infantry,  and  six  thousand  cavalry,  and  it  shall  be  set 
in  motion  six  weeks,  or  two  months  at  latest  after  requisition  is 
made  by  whichever  one  of  the  high  contracting  parties  is  attacked, 
or  threatened  with  invasion  in  his  or  her  possessions.  This  body 
of  troops  shall  be  maintained  at  the  cost  of  whichever  of  the  two 
high  contracting  parties  is  the  one  who  is  bound  to  supply  this 
succour,  and  the  one  who  receives  it  will  furnish  winter  quarters 
to  the  said  body  of  troops ;  but  the  party  demanding  this  succour 
shall  be  free  to  require,  in  place  of  the  said  effective  in  men, 
the  equivalent  in  money,  to  be  paid  in  specie  every  month;  but 
the  said  equivalent  shall  be  estimated  as  a  total,  and  neither  party 
shall  be  able  under  any  pretext  whatsoever  to  exact  more  than 
eight  thousand  florins  (money  of  the  Empire),  for  each  thousand 
men  of  the  infantry,  and  twenty-four  thousand  florins  for  each 
thousand  men  of  the  cavalry. 

Art.  VIII.  Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen,  and  His  Very 
Christian  Majesty,  reserve  to  themselves  the  right  to  mutually 
invite  other  powers  to  take  part  in  this  purely  defensive 
treaty. 

Art.  IX.  The  present  treaty  shall  be  ratified  by  Her  Majesty 
the  Empress-Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia,  and  by  His  Very 
Christian  Majesty,  and  the  ratifications  shall  be  exchanged  within 
the  space  of  six  weeks,  counting  from  day  of  signature,  or  earlier 
if  possible. 

In  pledge  whereof  we,  the  undersigned,  ministers  plenipotenti- 
ary of  Her  Majesty  the  Empress-Queen  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia 
and  of  His  Very  Christian  Majesty,  have  signed  the  present  treaty, 
and  have  appended  thereto  the  seal  of  our  arms. 
Done  at  Versailles  this  first  of  May,    1756. 

G.  COMTE  DE  STAREMBERG. 

A.  L.  ROUILLE. 

F.  J.  DE  PIERRE  DE  BERNIS. 


APPENDIX  III. 

SPEECH  PRONOUNCED  FOR  THE  KING  BY  THE  CHAN- 
CELLOR TO  THE  DEPUTIES  FROM  PARLIAMENT. 
SEPTEMBER  1,  1757. 

THE  sentiments  which  animated  your  predecessors  would  not 
have  allowed  them  to  take  the  step  which  the  greater  part  of  the 
officers  of  Parliament  have  lately  been  induced  to  take. 

The  king  orders  you  to  keep  always  present  to  your  minds  the 
obligations  which  your  oath  imposes  on  you.  No  motive  can 
absolve  you  from  rendering  the  justice  that  you  owe  to  the  sub- 
jects of  His  Majesty;  magistrates  appointed  to  administer  the 
laws  cannot  refuse  to  do  so  without  becoming  guilty  themselves 
of  the  evils  which  are  the  necessary  result  of  that  refusal. 

On  the  repeated  testimony  which  has  been  given  to  His  Majesty 
of  your  submission,  and  your  fidelity,  He  willingly  desires  to- 
day to  question  your  hearts  only,  and  find  in  your  sentiments 
grounds  for  confidence  in  the  future. 

He  therefore  effaces  forever  the  memory  of  what  has  displeased 
him  in  your  past  conduct,  and  will  regard  as  non-existing  the 
resignations  which  you  have  sent  him. 

His  Majesty  has  informed  you,  by  letters  which  have  been 
addressed  to  you,  that  He  is  willing  to  replace  in  their  offices  all 
those  who  resigned  them. 

In  regard  to  those  of  your  colleagues  whom  He  felt  himself 
obliged,  for  special  reasons,  to  send  away,  His  Majesty,  while 
retaining  them  in  their  places,  has  not  fixed  the  time  of  their 
recall;  when  the  king  is  obeyed,  when  you  have  resumed  the 
full  exercise  of  your  usual  functions,  when  His  Majesty  is  satis- 
fied with  the  excellence  of  your  conduct,  He  will  listen  favourably 
to  your  appeals  in  this  matter. 

As  for  what  concerns  the  second  declaration  (that  on  discipline), 
the  king  desires  that  the  usage  may  become  as  useless  as  he  has 


326  APPENDIX  m. 

judged  it  to  be  necessary;  but  His  Majesty  will  not  refuse  to 
listen  to  whatever  his  parliament  may  think  its  duty  to  present 
to  him. 

He  wills  that  the  suppression  ordered  by  his  edict  of  December 
last  be  executed.  He  will  send  to  his  parliament  an  inter- 
pretative declaration,  to  the  registration  of  which  He  orders  you 
to  proceed  without  delay. 

The  king  orders  you  to  resume  your  ordinary  functions:  con- 
form yourselves  to  his  intentions. 

His  Majesty  has  nothing  so  much  at  heart  as  that  the  silence 
he  has  prescribed  for  both  sides  shall  reign  throughout  his 
kingdom,  that  the  peace  he  has  desired  so  long  may  be  re-estab- 
lished. Though  His  Majesty,  from  superior  reasons,  and  in  view 
of  the  general  welfare,  thought  it  his  duty  to  rise  above  ordinary 
rules,  his  parliament  need  not  apprehend  any  consequences  from 
this  in  the  future.  The  king  orders  you  therefore  to  see  that  his 
first  declaration  is  executed,  comformably  to  the  canons  of  the 
Church  received  throughout  the  kingdom,  to  the  laws,  and  to 
the  ordinances. 

It  is  by  returning  to  these  views  that  you  will  remember  the 
considerations  of  wisdom  and  moderation  on  which  you  ought  to 
regulate  your  conduct;  give,  yourselves,  the  example  of  respect 
and  submission  which  His  Majesty  desires  shall  be  paid  to 
religion,  and  its  ministers;  it  is  thus  that  you  will  make  a  legiti- 
mate use  of  the  authority  which  the  king  confides  to  you. 

May  these  sentiments  be  always  graven  on  your  hearts;  and 
remember  that  your  sovereign  is  treating  you,  at  this  moment, 
as  a  father. 


INDEX  TO  VOL.  I. 


AIX-LA-CHAPBLLE  (Peace  of)  159; 161- 
163. 

ARGENSON  (Marc-Pierre,  Comte  d'), 
refuses  to  be  on  good  terms  with  Mme. 
de  Pompadour,  198  ;  jealousy  as  min- 
ister of  war  against  M.  de  Machault, 
minister  of  the  navy,  225,  241 ;  re- 
fusal of  reconciliation  with  Mme.  de 
Pompadour,  283-285  ;  dismissed  and 
exiled,  286-288;  his  dismissal  from 
ministry  of  war  causes  in  a  great 
measure  the  French  disasters  in  the 
"Seven  Years'  War,"  285;  takes 
his  dismissal  painfully,  his  death, 
August,  1764,  289. 

BAYREUTH  (The  Margravine  of),  en- 
deavours to  negotiate  with  Bernis, 
313,314. 

BELLE  ISLE  (Charles-Louis- Auguste 
Fouquet,  Due  and  Marechal  de),  com- 
mands on  the  western  coast  of 
France,  225,  226 ;  enters  the  Council 
of  State,  295. 

BERNIS  (Fra^ois-Joachim  de  Pierre, 
Abbe  and  Cardinal  de),  letter  to  his 
niece,  81-84;  birth  and  family  re- 
lations, 85-87  ;  childhood,  88-90 ; 
early  education,  91-94  ;  sent  to  Jesuit 
college  in  Paris,  94 ;  life  and  studies 
there,  95-98;  reflections  on  systems 
of  education,  98,  99  ;  enters  seminary 
of  Saint- Sulpice,  life  and  studies 
there,  99-103 ;  goes  to  Languedoc, 
104,  105;  returns  to  Paris,  Cardinal 
de  Fleury's  prejudice  against  him, 
106;  brave  struggle  with  poverty, 
early  life  in  the  world,  takes  to 


poetry,  107-111;  acquaintance  and 
friendship  with  Cardinal  de  Polignac, 
126,  128;  goes  to  Auvergne  and  Lan- 
guedoc, kindness  of  Massillon  to  him, 
131,  132;  his  celebrated  speech  to 
Cardinal  de  Fleury,  133,  134 ;  is  re- 
fused a  benefice,  135-138  ;  his  election 
to  the  French  Academy,  138,  140; 
intercourse  with  men  of  letters,  141- 
144  ;  judgment  on  women,  144-146  ; 
on  great  seigneurs,  147-149;  origin 
of  his  fortune,  Mme.  de  Pompadour, 
150-156;  his  situation  in  1751,  157, 
158;  determines  to  enter  public  life, 
166 ;  appointed  ambassador  to  Venice, 
168-171 ;  history  of  his  embassy  and 
acts  in  Venice,  175-187 ;  visit  to 
Parma,  188;  takes  Holy  Orders  in 
Venice,  189 ;  returns  to  Versailles, 
190;  shocked  at  the  state  of  public 
affairs,  195,  202 ;  appointed  ambas- 
sador to  Spain,  203  ;  suddenly  called 
on  to  assist  Mme.  de  Pompadour  and 
the  king  in  negotiating  an  alliance 
with  the  Court  of  Vienna,  204 ;  the  his- 
tory of  that  negotiation,  204-21 6 ;  per- 
petually thwarted  by  the  ministers, 
especially  Rouille',  217-219;  proposes 
an  ultimatum  to  England,  prepares 
for  the  attack  on  Minorca,  220-228  ; 
proposes  terms  of  peace  with  Eng- 
land which  the  ministry  reject,  228  ; 
negotiations  with  Vienna,  229-230; 
health  breaks  down  under  physical 
and  mental  strain,  231 ;  signs  Treaty 
of  Versailles,  232,  233,  321-324; 
cabals  against  him  in  the  ministry; 
234-236 ;  enters  the  Council  of  State, 


328 


INDEX. 


244;  his  opinion  as  to  the  proper 
course  towards  parliament,  249-252 ; 
called  by  the  king  to  take  charge  of 
the  affair  of  parliament,  the  principles 
on  which  he  did  so,  258-264 ;  success 
of  his  course,  267-270;  prediction 
made  to  him  by  a  minister,  271 ;  his 
honourable  reflections  on  his  position 
and  duty  after  the  attempt  on  the 
king's  life,  280-283;  induces  Mme. 
de  Pompadour  to  be  reconciled  to 
Comte  d'Argenson,  the  latter  rejects 
the  proposal,  283-285 ;  the  sermon  to 
him  of  Comte  d'Argenson's  last  days, 
289;  his  kind  construction  of  Stain- 
ville's  (Choiseul's)  sentiments  to  him, 
298 ;  made  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
against  his  will,  299 ;  the  Margravine 
of  Bayreuth  endeavours  to  negotiate 
with  him,  313,  314. 

CHATEAUROUX  (TheDuchesse  de),  139 ; 

her  death,r!51. 
CHOISEUL  (Etienne-Francois,  Comte  de 

Stainville  and  Due   de),    appointed 

ambassador    to  Vienna,    296,    298; 

persuades    Rouille  to   resign,    300- 

302. 
COURT  (The)  its  manners  and  morals, 

112-115. 

DAM i ENS  (Robert-Francis),  his  at- 
tempted assassination  of  Louis  XV., 
272-283. 

Due  (M.  le),  failure  of  his  ministry, 
119,  120. 

DUVERNEY  (Joseph  Paris,  called  P&ris-), 
his  advice  to  M.  le  Due,  119,  makes 
preparations  for  the  attack  on  Mi- 
norca and  supplies  the  money  to  the 
treasury,  221-224. 

ENGLAND,  outbreak  of  the  war  with, 
ultimatum  of  France,  capture  of 
Minorca,  220-229,  317-320. 

ESTREES  (Louis-Ce'sar-Charles  le  Tel- 
lier,  Comte  and  Marechal  d'),  in  com- 
mand of  the  armies,  quarrels  with 
Paris-Duverney,  302 ;  intrigues  against 
him  led  by  Mme.  de  Pompadour  in 


favour  of  the  Prince  de  Soubise;  is 
goaded  to  win  the  victory  of  Ilastem- 
beck,  309;  superseded  by  Marechal 
de  Richelieu,  309. 

FLKURT  (Cardinalde),  afriend  of  BermV 
father,  gives  advice  as  to  his  educa- 
tion, 94 ;  his  prejudice  against  Bernis, 
106 ;  sketch  of  him  and  his  career, 
anecdotes  concerning  him,  115-125; 
Bernis'  famous  speech  to  him,  133, 
134. 

FONTENELLE  (Bernard  le  Bovier  de), 
141. 

FRANCE,  condition  of,  after  the  Peace 
of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  161-163;  the  gov- 
ernment and  ministers,  164-167 ;  state 
of  Court  and  government  in  1752, 
172,  174;  alarming  condition,  191- 
194;  naval  attack  by  England  before 
declaring  war,  199 ;  quarrels  in  the 
government,  200;  her  military  mis- 
fortunes in  the  Seven  Years'  War 
begin  after  dismissal  of  Comte  d'Ar- 
genson, 289 ;  conduct  of  the  con- 
tinental war,  290-295. 

FREDERICK  the  Great,  King  of  Prussia, 
distrust  of  him  by  France,  210,  212, 
213,  216-218;  on  hearing  of  the 
Treaty  of  Versailles  assembles  his 
army  and  prepares  for  war,  237,  238 ; 
beginning  of  the  Seven  Years'  War, 
240;  his  actions  during  that  war, 
310-313. 

JESUITS  (The),  their  college  of  Louis- 
le-Grand  in  Paris,  its  professors  and 
Bernis'  career  there,  95-98. 

KAUNITZ  (Wenceslas,  Comte),  Austrian 
prime-minister,  negotiates  alliance 
with  France,  204-216,  etc. 

Louis  XV.,  beginning  of  his  relations 
with  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  150-156  ; 
speaks  for  the  first  time  to  Bernis, 
157  ;  excessive  eagerness  for  alliance 
with  Austria,  206,  208;  his  delight 
at  the  signing  of  the  Treaty  of  Ver- 
sailles, threatening  letters  against 


IttDEX. 


329 


Mm,  272;   his  attempted  assassina- 
tion bv  Damiens,  272-283. 
LOUISE-ELISABETH  DE  FRANCE    (Ma- 
dame Infanta  and  Duchess  of  Parma), 
187,  188,  190. 

MACHAULT  (Jean-Baptiste  de),  minister 
of  the  navy,  lukewarm  conduct  as  to 
the  siege  of  Minorca,  jealousy  of 
Comte  d'Argenson,  minister  of  war, 
225  ;  dismissed  and  exiled,  285-288 ; 
how  he  took  his  disgrace,  290. 

MARIA  THERESA  (The  Empress-queen), 
proposes,  through  Mme.  de  Pompa- 
dour, an  alliance  with  France,  204 ; 
history  of  that  negotiation,  204-216; 
in  the  Seven  Years'  War,  240,  etc., 
310,  etc. 

MASSILLON  (Jean-Baptiste),  Bishop  of 
Clermont,  his  friendly  approval  of 
Bernis,  131, 132. 

MINORCA  (Island  of),  taking  of,  224- 
228,  317-320. 

MiREPOix(Jean-FrancoisBoyer,Bishop 
of),  his  refusal  of  benefices  to  Bernis, 
134-138. 

ORLEANS  (Philippe  d')/Regent,  injury 
done  by  him  to  religion  and  morals, 
anecdotes  relating  to,  112-114,  118. 

PARLIAMENT  (The),  sketch  of  its  affairs 
and  conduct,  especially  in  relation  to 
the  clergy  and  bull  Unigenitus,  from 
1732  to  1758,  246-271. 

POLIGNAC  (Melchior,  Cardinal  de), 
sketch  of  him,  anecdotes  and  poem 
relating  to  him,  126-130. 

POMPADOUR  (Mme.  de),  beginning  of 
her  relations  to  Louis  XV.  and  to 
B*ernis,  150-157;  her  position  in 
1755,  195-198;  chosen  by  Maria 
Theresa  to  negotiate  an  alliance 
between  France  and  Austria,  204; 
history  of  negotiation,  204-216  ; 
threatening  letters  against  her,  272 ; 
her  perilous  position  and  behaviour 
after  Damiens'  attack  on  the  king's 


life,  Bernis'  faithfulness  to  her,  274- 
276 ;  recovers  the  king,  and  is  more 
secure  than  ever  on  her  throne,  277, 
282 ;  is  willing  to  be  reconciled  to 
Comte  d'Argenson;  resolves  on  his 
ruin,  283-285. 

RICHELIEU  (Due  and  Marechal  de), 
chosen  by  Bernis  'to  command  the 
attack  on  Minorca,  and  takes  the 
island,  224-228;  his  letter  describ- 
ing it,  317-320;  commands  the  army 
on  the  Rhine,  309 ;  negotiates  with 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  and  also 
with  King  of  Prussia,  310,  311;  his 
blunders,  314,  315. 

ROUILLE  (Antoine-Louis,  Comte  de 
Jouy),  minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
his  perverse  thwarting  of  Bernis, 
217-219;  claims  the  credit  of  the 
Treaty  of  Versailles,  233,  235,  244 ;  is 
made  to  resign  by  Choiseul,  300-302. 

SAINT-SULPICE  (Seminary  of  ),the  Abbe 

Couturier  its  superior,  Bernis'  career 

there,  99-103. 
SAXE  (Maurice,  Comte  and  Marechal 

de),  remark  as  to  Fontenoy,  154 ;  his 

character,  155. 
SEVEN  YEARS'  WAR  (The)  beginning 

of  240;  continuation,  290-315. 
SOUBISE  (Charles  de  Rohan,  Prince  de), 

his  part  in  the  Seven  Years'  War,  302, 

etc. 
STAREMBERG    (George-Adam,    Comte 

de),    negotiates     with    Bernis     the 

Treaty  of  Versailles,  204,  etc. 
STUART  (Prince  Charles  Edward),  his 

arrest  and  treatment,  158. 
UNIGENITUS  (The  Bull),  division  of  the 

bishops  on  the   subject;  the  pope's 

action  concerning  it,  253,  254. 

VENICE  (Republic  of),  Bernis'  embassy 

there,  174-1 87. 
VERSAILLES  (The   Treaty  of),  signed 

May  1,  1756,  and  what  followed,  232 

etc. 


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